


It's not that simple

by AniKit



Series: It never is [1]
Category: Jelix - Fandom, PewDiePie - Fandom, Septiplier - Fandom, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom, septicpie - Fandom
Genre: Drama, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Jealousy, Jelix just implied, Love Triangles, Love/Hate, M/M, Physical Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, possessive mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-09-18 09:47:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 23,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9379136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AniKit/pseuds/AniKit
Summary: “Trouble sleeping?” Jack asked softly.Mark murmured a yes in reply, and used a hand to gently move Jacks face into his neck. It could be seen as an action of affection. It could be seen as an action of possessiveness.“Are you thinking again?” Jack whispered.“Mhm…”Jack swallowed nervously, and moved his hand to Marks shoulder, holding on to it.“I’m yours, Mark. I’ll always be.”Mark didn’t answer until much later, when Jack was drifting between consciousness and sleep.“I hate you for what you’ve done to us, Jack.”Being liked had been a drug to Jack, and he had overdosed.





	1. You liked that, didn't you?

**Author's Note:**

> An AU where they are not Youtubers, but Mark is an electrician and Jack an artist working from home.

The thing with an abusive relationship is that it’s often not as simple as it would seem. And with “simple” meaning having a lover that constantly hits you, neglects you, verbally abuses you. How is this simple? Well, it’s impossible not to see that this relationship is toxic. If you refuse to leave, then friends, family or police will make that choice for you. It’s so obvious that you need help.  
What was between Mark and Jack was not as “simple”.  
For a long time, Jack believed that he had found the one. They clicked. They fitted each other like two pieces of a puzzle, bacon and eggs, salt and pepper. They were both so in love. For years they were that power couple that everyone wanted to be like, everyone wanted to have a relationship like they had. They were so understanding of each other, so caring, so trusting.  
They met when they were sixteen, but seldom were they together alone. They were always with friends. After two years the gang drifted apart, and so did they. Four years later they met again, at a bar.  
“Hey, you look kinda familiar.”  
“I think I’d recognize someone with green hair.”  
“I just dyed it.”  
This time, they were alone. And the tightest friendship of their lives blossomed over the next year. After a while they could not deny it to their friends, their selves or each other anymore. They were deeply in love. At the age of twenty three they were both sure they’d found the love of their lives.  
Everything was perfect.  
Well, nothing can ever be perfect, but it was really, really close.  
For example; Mark had a bit of an anger issue. He could blow for the simplest things. But it wasn’t really a problem. Jack could always calm him down. Everything was always OK in the end.  
Another example; Jack could be a bit too accidently flirty around others. It wasn’t really a problem. He just wanted to be liked, he wanted to be seen and heard. He liked attention, and he was the kind of person that showed appreciation with hugs and light touches.  
When everything they had built together came crashing down on them, smothering them under expectations, trust-issues, resentment, sorrow and cold pain, Jack knew he was the only one to blame.  
Why wouldn’t Jack leave his monster behind? Because he had created it.  
It just wasn’t that simple.

 

Jack smiled softly as strong arms wrapped around him from behind. Soft lips brushed against his neck.  
“You know, fish makes you tired,” Mark said before he slid Jack’s T-shirt farther down his arm to kiss his shoulder. Two blue marks the size of fingerprints stood against the pale skin where he kissed.  
Jack was currently cutting up carrot while the salmon laid in the oven. Mark came home from work just a minute ago.  
“Waking up early and working for seven hours makes you tired,” Jack said with a shrug. He regretted it right after, as it had seemed like he tried to shrug Mark off him. He felt Marks fingers dig into him right underneath his hipbone, and he clenched his teeth in pain.  
Then Mark pulled away and walked over to the couch to flop down on it with a tired groan. He fished his cell out of his pocket.  
“Tyler and Wade are coming over later,” he said while looking at something on the screen. “We thought we might as well get a use out of the sun and have some beers in the garden.” He turned his head towards Jack with a sweet smile. “Could you be an angel and make some of that sunshine on a bottle that you make so good?”  
“You mean homemade lemonade,” Jack replied with a smirk, throwing the carrot into a pot together with the other vegetables. “Yeah, I’ll start on it right away then, since it needs some time in the fridge to get ready.”

 

Tyler and Wade talked and laughed with Mark, shared jokes and stories while Jack thoughtfully snuggled into Marks side. The sun was bright, and their green garden looked like a small paradise. They had chugged down Jacks lemonade while praising it, and had moved on to the beer.  
Jack didn’t pay much mind to the conversation. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist these days; always daydreaming and zoning out. Marks arm held him close to the other male, and Jack couldn’t feel more safe and intimidated at the same time.  
“You are insanely good at making lemonade, Jack,” Tyler said, and his name brought Jack out of his fantasies. He gave Tyler a sweet smile, but was careful not to look at him too long.  
“Thank you. A childhood friend thought me,” he answered.  
Tyler didn’t pay much attention to what Jack said. He seemed a little tipsy already. “It’s so fresh and sweet, you know what I mean?” He took a sip of his beer. “Kinda like you, Jack!” He added with a snort, and winked at Jack.  
Part of Jack took it as the innocent joke and compliment it was. Part of him thought Tyler must have done it on purpose.

 

It was later in the evening. Tyler and Wade had left, and Jack had cleaned up after them and had made himself ready for bed. He was in the bedroom, looking through his clothes for something to wear tomorrow when he saw Mark in the corner of his eye.  
He swallowed, and his hands began shaking.  
“You liked that didn’t you?” Mark said, his voice flat and slightly patronizing. Jack gave up looking for something to wear tomorrow. His thoughts were already clouded by heavy fear. He shook his head carefully, but knew it was no use.  
Mark took some steps towards him, and closed the door behind him. “I bet you could barely keep yourself contained as he winked at you. You must have been so pleased to hear him speak good of you.”  
Jack closed the drawer, and inhaled deeply. Should he even try?  
“I didn’t,” he whispered softly, his voice barely audible. “Please, Mark.”  
Mark rushed towards him, and Jack backed away, his back hitting the wall behind him. “Please, Mark,” he pleaded again. He lifted a hand and held them between them, like a shield. What a useless defense. “I don’t care for Tyler.” He couldn’t meet the other’s gaze. He hadn’t looked at him once since Mark came to him. He didn’t want to see the man his lover became on evenings like these. Those spiteful eyes; they used to be filled with love and warmth.  
Mark chuckled. “I could call you sweet,” he said. “I could call you beautiful. I could love you with all that I am, but we both know that’ll never be enough for you.”  
Jack had nothing to say to that.  
And suddenly Mark was over him, gripping his wrists, throwing him onto the bed. He was over him again, holding him down, kissing him forcefully. His hands were everywhere, his mouth claimed every centimeter of his body and before Jack could do anything about it, Mark was inside him.  
“You’re mine, Jack,” he whispered into his ear, hot breath tickling Jacks neck. “You’re mine, you’re mine, and you’ll always be.”  
Jack didn’t fight back, and neither did he deny it.


	2. Every time I’ve seen you here, you just stare off into the distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack meets someone new.

Jack wasn’t really supposed to go out much. Mark had a job that fed them both, and all Jack needed was to buy groceries. But when Mark was at work, he liked to talk a stroll. He didn’t talk to anyone, and he didn’t visit any places; he just found a free bench in the park or by the sea near the city. Then, he watched the world while disappearing into his own mind.  
He felt freer like this. It was better than staying inside all day.  
No one ever talked to him. It didn’t come naturally to the people of London to strike up a conversation with strangers. Jack also did his best to look unapproachable.  
He sat by the docks one Monday morning when this changed. Someone flopped down at the bench next to him, and Jack decided to ignore the person as best as he could. If the person didn’t get up, Jack would have to get up.  
“Hey there, cutie.”  
Jack was up before his mind even could make the decision to do so. Quickly, he hurried away with as wide steps as his short legs could take.  
“Hey, hey, hey!” the man was following him, and Jack rolled his eyes. “I barely open my mouth and you already give me the cold shoulder?”  
“I’m not interested,” Jack mumbled, still walking. They were walking by the road, cars passing back and forth to their right. The day was as busy as any day; people were running around, everyone had somewhere to go and somewhere to be. Jack fished his sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on to shield his eyes from the sun.  
“I didn’t think it would take that much to keep you interested,” the man said, an annoying hint of laughter in his accented voice. Jack didn’t recognize the accent.  
He shouldn’t have, but Jack turned around with offence in his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“Well…” The man shrugged and gave a sheepish grin. He didn’t look intimidating. He had clear blue eyes, high cheekbones and a slim, handsome face. His beard adorned his jaw prettily, and his black jeans connected to red suspenders that were stretched over a plain, white T-shirt made him stand out from the crowd. “Every time I’ve seen you here, you just stare off into the distance. If that can keep you entertained for hours on end, I thought my company had to be a blast.”  
“Every time you see me here? Have you been watching me?”  
“Yeah,” the man admitted without problem. Then he turned and pointed to a building right by the docks and not too far from the bench Jack used to sit on. It was a library. Jack never borrowed books, but rather bought it online. “I usually sit by the window when I read, and sometimes I look at the people passing by. You caught my interest the first time you came here. And you kept coming.”  
“That’s kinda stalkerish.”  
“No, it’s not. You just happen to be in my line of vision. I’m just taking use of the opportunity.”  
Sean gave stiff smile and shook his head. He had already talked too much to this stranger. He had to be heading home.  
“Well, look as much as you want I guess,” Sean said while turning away from the man with the strange accent. “But I’m not really interested in conversation.”  
The whole way home, Jack tried to ignore how much of a lie that was.

That night, laying in Marks strong arms, Jack had trouble sleeping. He was resting his head on Marks shoulder and had his leg thrown over his legs. His finger was drawing tiny circles on Marks hairless chest. His mind wandered as his eyes absently stared at the white blonde curtains gently moving in the warm summer breeze from the open roof-to-floor window.  
It had been a long time since he had talked to a stranger, except cashiers, bus drivers and phone sellers. Now it felt like taking a hit of a drug he had been addicted to long ago. He had always loved talking to people, strangers and friends alike. He used to love making people smile and laugh. He always hoped he could brighten up someone’s day, just by talking to them. He had been the type of person to compliment a passing person on their beard or hat or whatever else caught his eye about them. They would smile. Some of them would even stop to pick up a conversation, and those times were the best.  
Now, he couldn’t even meet their eyes. Making people like him had been a drug to him. And when you get addicted, the best you could do was never, ever take it again.  
Don’t talk to them, don’t listen to them, don’t look at them.  
Jack hated himself for having to be so rude to that man. He hated acting like a stuck up bitch, turning away. But he couldn’t trust himself with anyone.  
He felt Marks arms tighten around him, and was suddenly aware of Marks breath and that it was not the heavy breathing of someone who was asleep.  
“Trouble sleeping?” Jack asked softly.  
Mark murmured a yes in reply, and used a hand to gently move Jacks face into his neck. It could be seen as an action of affection. It could be seen as an action of possessiveness.  
“Are you thinking again?” Jack whispered.  
“Mhm…”  
Jack swallowed nervously, and moved his hand to Marks shoulder, holding on to it.  
“I’m yours, Mark. I’ll always be.”  
Mark didn’t answer until much later, when Jack was drifting between consciousness and sleep.  
“I hate you for what you’ve done to us, Jack.”  
Being liked had been a drug to Jack, and he had overdosed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short chapter, but the next will be out wednesday, and it'll be longer ^^,  
> All comments are welcome!


	3. "Some hot milk with honey"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot milk taste like shit, but if you put a table spoon of honey in it, it suddenly makes up for the bad taste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got alot of really nice comments on the last chapter. It really means alot to me to see what you think about the chapter.  
> GrumpyEden, I'm honoured to have inspired you.

The next day, Jack awoke with his throat on fire and his eyes swimming. He felt for Mark, but he had already gone to work. He then reached for his cell, and saw that it was a little past ten. He groaned, sniffled and fell back asleep.  
When he woke up again, he couldn’t breathe through his nose and there was a stream of saliva running from his open mouth. He got out on shaky legs, and hurried to the bathroom where he found his PJ’s. Or more correctly; an old, see-through T-shirt and a cozy pair of sweatpants. His green bunny-slippers sat ready for him in the living room on his way to the kitchen where he toasted himself a cheesy breakfast.  
Eating is the worst when you have a cold. He constantly had to switch between chewing and breathing through a mouthful of food. Or he could finish chewing and swallowing everything in his mouth at once, but then had to gasp for air like he had been underwater.  
“I wanna die,” he grumbled to no one in particular.  
After eating, he crawled back into bed and looked at his phone again. It was one. Mark was usually home between half past three and half past four. Jack was usually ready with dinner by then, but he really couldn’t be bothered today.  
'I’m sick and dying, can we just get some takeaway today?' He texted Mark. Then added quickly in another text; 'And could you get something for my throat? And some honey? We also need ketchup and hand soap :* <3 <3'  
He tried scrolling a little through his Facebook-feed after that, but the light coming from the screen made his sensitive eyes water, so he picked up the book on the bedside table and started reading. He fell asleep not long after, before Mark had a chance to answer his messages.  
He woke up to the sound of grocery bags hitting the floor in the kitchen/Livingroom. It was technically the same room, but when they were behind the kitchen counter, they counted themselves as in the kitchen.  
Footsteps approached the bedroom, and then fingers were combing through Jacks green hair.  
“Hey baby,” Mark greeted soothingly.   
“Mh,” Jack greeted in return.  
“Aw, sweetie. How bad is it?”  
“I don’t think I have a fever,” Jack said while enjoying Mark petting his head. “It sucks though. I hate having to breathe through my mouth. And my throat and head is killing me.”  
“I’ll go get the pastilles I bought, and then make you some hot milk with honey,” Mark said and kissed Jack’s forehead.  
“Thank you,” Jack called after him as Mark walked back into the living room. Jack could see that Mark was pitying him, but he could also sense the excitement. Mark loved it when Jack needed him.   
The pastilles were an instant pain relief, and the milk gave Jack a warm feeling in his body. Mark got his I-pad and cuddled up next to Jack with a domino pizza and a bottle of water with lemon so that they could relax together in bed and watch Netflix.  
As they watched, Jack took a moment to glance at his phone. First now, he saw the message Mark had sent back.  
'Of course, baby. Anything for you <3'  
Sometimes, Jack should wish he were always sick. 

Mark continued to coddle Jack with cuddles, warm milk and food the next few days, and when he came home from work on Friday, Jack was cooking as usual.  
“You feeling better?” Mark asked as he started packing out the groceries he bought for the weekend.  
“Much better,” Jack said contently, though his voice sounded hoarse. “I’m still coughing a little and my nose is sore, but other than that I’m great.”  
“That’s good.” Mark finished packing out, and went behind Jack to rest his chin on the smaller males shoulder. “Fish again?”  
“We’ve been having a lot of junk food these last days,” Jack said with a grin.  
“Yeah,” Mark said, his mind clearly elsewhere. “Have you been drawing today?”  
Drawing was Jacks only occupation at the time. He was – with a fear of bragging – pretty fucking good at it. He especially had an eye for pretty coloring, and realistic styles. Real-looking creatures and scenery looked great with unrealistic, bright magical colors. He took five dollars for each drawing, and though It didn’t earn him much, Marks income together with his was enough for them. There was a lot of people out there who wanted their favorites or original made characters come to life on paper, or people who wanted to see unlikely couples or crossovers together.  
Jack knew he was lucky who could do what he loved doing every day. But originally, he had always wanted a job where he could socialize with a lot of other people.  
He and Mark decided it was better this way.  
“Yeah, I got done with one and have been taking a few requests,” Jack answered.  
“Can I see it?” Mark asked, kissing his way down Jack’s neck.  
“Of course. It’s still open on my computer.”  
Mark walked into the “office” – the bedroom – To take a look. He was not back by the time Jack was done making dinner, so Jack went to get him. From the doorway, he could see that Mark was looking at the messages between Jack and his client who had gotten the picture. Jack usually didn’t talk to them a lot, but this guy had been especially talkative, and Jack had found him interesting. He was writing a book, and it had an intriguing complicated plot with time-traveling and twisty character development. Jack had felt pretty honored that this guy would share his ideas with him.  
The author had requested a drawing of a very vital scenery in the book, and Jack had gotten a lot of praise for the result, even though the request involved using a lot less color than Jack usually did.  
After talking for a while (for too long) they even started sharing more personal stories, which was a big no-no. Jack knew he shouldn’t, but he just couldn’t help himself. He felt lonely, even though Mark was with him every day.  
Mark was tapping his fingers on the desk now, still looking at the messages. The messages that were not work-related.  
“I have no idea who he is,” Jack said. “I don’t know where he lives or what he looks like. I’ve sent the picture now, and I’m never gonna talk to him again. I don’t want to talk to him again.”  
“Why were you talking to him for so long in the first place?” Mark asked without turning around. His voice seemed calm, but Jack recognized the sign of struggle in it. Nothing Jack would say could make it better now. But he spoke anyway, because he learned long ago that it was better than staying silent.  
“He’s an author, and I saw the potential of a more regular costumer. I thought that; if he liked me, then-“   
Marks fist slammed onto the table, and the sound made Jack’s mouth snap shut, and his face loose the color it had. He hated when he made him mad. Why the fuck did he keep up the fucking conversation? It was not worth it! It never was!  
“You’re not supposed to make people like you!” Mark shouted, and Jack could swear he felt himself shrink by a full meter. Mark got up, and turned towards him. His eyes were dark, and his jaw tight. “You said you would keep these relationships strictly professional, Jack! Can I not trust you even with this job?”  
Jack covered against the wall and shook his head desperately, tears stinging at his eyes. “You can-“  
“All I’ve fucking done for you these last days, and then you go behind my back and do this shit!”  
“I didn’t-“  
Suddenly Marks fingers were locked in Jack’s hair, and he pulled his head away from the wall – and then slammed it into it.  
The sound of a bang and a crack was sickening. The world got black for a split second before it came back in a blur. His entire face tingled, and his legs gave out. As he slid to the floor, Mark hurriedly left the room and slammed the door behind him. He hated getting physical against Jack like this, and Jack knew he had to stay away from him for some hours until the shame died down. Or else he’d do it again.  
Jack supported his throbbing head with one hand as he practically crawled to the bed and hid himself beneath the covers. He laid there scolding himself and sobbing while the dinner got cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like posting my own thoughts about the chapters, because I'd rather hear your opinions and readings of it.  
> All comments are appreciated!


	4. It’ll only make it worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunk

Jack sat with his eyes closed, listening to driving cars, voices overlapping and seagulls calling. The sky was covered by light clouds, and a slightly chilled breeze licked across Jack’s cheeks and ears. He wanted to travel away from the city to a deserted place by the sea where the seagulls and waves were the only things he could hear.  
Maybe tomorrow. He could rise up early so that he would be back home before Mark was. It’s not like he wasn’t allowed to be anywhere but home, but Mark wouldn’t understand why Jack wanted to go alone and not with him. And then there was just too many things that could be said wrong.  
Sometimes… Sometimes he wanted to run away.  
But he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Mark like that. He hadn’t always been like this. One time, he had been the exact opposite. And Jack was sure he would be like that again some day.  
“Hey there, cutie!”  
Sean breathed hard through his nose, refusing to open his eyes as he heard someone sit down beside him.  
“You didn’t run away this time. I take that as a sign that our relationship has improved.”  
Sean resisted the urge to answer. The man would leave soon.  
“You would not believe the day I’ve had,” the man said, clearly not bothered by the lack of answers. “I would tell you all about it,” There was a pause. “But it’s a secret.” The voice whispered right by his ear, and Jack jumped in fright before scowling at the chuckling blonde. “Got’em!” the man barked.  
Jack sighed. “I really don’t feel like talking, man,” he said, his voice as polite as it could get.  
The man shrugged. “That’s alright,” he said, burying his hand in a paper bag on his lap. “We don’t have to talk.” He then fished out a sandwich, and started eating.  
True to his word, he didn’t say a word for the next twenty minutes. They both sat there in silence and watched the boats who came and went. Only once did Jack glance over at the man, and saw a content smile on the others face as he chewed his sandwich. He was an odd one.  
Then the man got up, threw the paper bag in the trash by the bench and walked away with a: “See you later.”  
Jack felt relieved. And disappointed.  
The next day, Jack went back to the bench by the docks. He usually switched between this one and the one at the park, but something told him to go to the one by the docks. He tried to convince himself that it wasn’t the fact that the blonde might be there.  
After a while, the man came by again. “Hey there, cutie.” He sat down, ate his sandwich and then left again without starting up any conversation. “See you again.”  
And they saw each other again; every day until Saturday. Except for the man’s greeting and goodbyes, they never said a word to each other. Jack tried to tell himself that this made what he was doing alright, but the guilt of it kept him awake at night. Why didn’t he just go to the park?

On Saturday, Jack woke up to Marks breath on his forehead and the sound of rain pattering against the windows. He loved that sound.  
He snuggled his face into Marks chest, and breathed in that familiar scent that never had changed since they first got together. It made him feel safe. He laid a few kisses there before he turned around and fetched his phone of the nightstand and started playing Angry Birds. After a while, Mark shifted beside him, and sleepy eyes opened to watch Jack play for a minute.  
After seeing Jack fail three times at the same level, Mark planted a kiss on Jacks cheek, and mumbled something about making breakfast. Jack nodded and continued playing as Mark got dressed and left for the kitchen.  
After some levels, Mark called out for him. “The guys are coming over this evening, jack! Said they’ll be bringing beer!”  
“OK!”  
The guys, meaning Tyler, Ethan, Bob and Wade, brought a lot of beer actually. They sat in the living room chatting and laughing, and played some games on the TV, while getting tipsier by the minute.  
It had been a long time since Jack had gotten even close to drunk, and tonight he might have been the drunkest. He and Mark was sharing a loveseat. Mark preferred keeping Jack as close as possible when Jack drank. Wade, Ethan and Tyler was sharing the couch, while Bob had pulled close the chair that usually stood by the wall. At the moment, Wade was sharing some pretty big news.  
“I just know that I’m a hundred present sure, and she has already told me that she can see a future with me. I don’t know why I would wait any longer.”  
“Don’t wait any longer!” Tyler said cheerfully. “Put a ring on it, buy a cake, get drunk and seal the deal!”  
Bob snorted. “Romantic,” he said sarcastically.  
Mark chuckled. “I’m really happy for you, Wade. I can’t imagine her saying no.” Jack grinned and nodded. His and Marks eyes met. “I hope I’ll soon be there myself,” Mark added with a soft smile, and Jack’s own faded.  
The conversation went on like nothing happened, but Jacks good mood had gone down the drain. After a while, he excused himself and went to the bedroom where he left the door open and sat down on the foot of the bed.   
He knew he was drunk, and that his mind was blowing everything out of proportion right now, but he couldn’t quite push down the anger no matter how many times he told himself to calm down.  
Mark hoped to be there soon? Did Mark hope they’d get married soon?  
Just the thought of it made Jack’s head hurt. He loved Mark, he did, but he couldn’t stay in this forever. Not like Mark was now. Jack had always hoped things would go back after some time, but it never seemed to get better. It had to get better before Jack could say yes to anything!  
What if it never got better?  
‘No, Jack,’ he thought to himself. ‘Don’t you go there.’  
They just needed more time.  
“Jack?” Mark stood in the doorway to their bedroom, eyes questioning. “Are you OK?”  
Sober Jack would have lied, and told him that everything was fine. Drunk Jack hesitated for a moment before nodding. Drunk Jack liked to take risks, something sober Jack had learned long ago to never do with Mark.  
“What you said about wanting to be where Wade was soon, it made me think,” Jack said. “It made me think about how it seems that we’ll never be there.”  
Marks eyes narrowed.  
“Why wouldn’t we?” he asked. “Don’t you love me?”  
“I love you.”  
“And I love you. That’s a perfect marriage right there.” Mark chuckled carefully, and Jack knew that Mark was giving Jack a chance to chuckle with him and say he’s right. But he couldn’t.  
“But are we happy, Mark? Is this how you want to spend the rest of your life?”  
“I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”  
“It’s not that simple, Mark!” Jack hissed, and Mark gave him a warning glare as the guys in the living room might have heard the Irishman. “We’re so broken, Mark,” Jack whispered. “And sometimes I wonder if we are broken beyond repair.”  
“We are fine, Jack,” Mark whispered, his eyes as sharp as his voice couldn’t be. “The only times we aren’t fine, is when you do things we’ve agreed you’re not to do.”  
“Mark, I won’t be happy following your rules forever-“  
“They’re not rules, they are agreements,” Mark hissed. The guys could defiantly hear them now. “We came to these agreements together because you fucked up, Jack! You only got yourself to blame for it!”  
“I didn’t think I’d fucking pay for it forever! When will you finally forgive me?”  
“I did forgive you! I’m here! I love you!”  
“You don’t even know what that means!” Jack shouted, finally pushed to his limits.  
Time froze.  
Jack watched Mark with cold fear while his words hung in the air between them. We was waiting for Mark to throw himself at him. He was waiting for the screams and punches. But what happened was way worse.  
Marks face was as red as it could get, and his hands were visibly shaking. He looked as pissed as Jack had ever seen him, but suddenly tears were welling up in his raging eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but his voice broke on the first word. He gave Jack one last burning glare before he stormed out. Jack heard the guys calling after him, and then the sound of the door to outside slamming shut. He buried his face in his hands and sobbed as the guilt of his words settled in his chest like a pile of bricks.  
“Jack, are you OK?”  
“Did he hurt you?”  
Hands gripped his shoulders, but Jack quickly slapped them away and crawled further back on the bed, away from Ethan and Wade who stood by the foot of it. “Don’t touch me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “It’ll only make it worse.”  
Mark wasn’t even there to see it, but Jack knew Mark didn’t like others touching him.  
Jack stayed in bed, hugging his knees to his chest, listening to the guys cleaning up and then leaving. He didn’t change position, but sat like that until he fell asleep and fell over.


	5. Trust me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one can be trusted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This sign means that we're jumping back in time: ~~

When Jack woke up, he was still alone. It didn’t look like Mark ever had come to bed that night.  
Jack went to the living room, where he found Mark passed out on the couch with a half empty bottle of vodka on the table next to him. He probably needed it to fall asleep. Ever since Jack fucked up, Mark had had problems with falling asleep at night.  
It’s hard to fall asleep when you’re angry.  
Jack didn’t wait for Mark to wake up, but stepped into his high top Nikes, and went out. He began walking with no particular destination in mind, and tried to keep his mind as blank as possible. In his opinion, a walk worked way better than meditation.  
It was no surprise to him that his feet ended up taking him to the bench by the docks. It was more silent than usual, as it was Sunday and few people were out. Jack sank down on the bench and stared out at the sea, his eyes as empty and blank as he tried to make his mind be.  
But it difficult to make his thoughts not wander, and they were determined to think over last night. A lot of Mark and his conversation was blurred because of the alcohol, but he remembered what mattered.  
He told Mark that he doesn’t know what love means. Mark, who had loved him with all of his heart for such a long time. Mark, who had given everything - even moved to another continent – of himself to Jack. Mark, who had trusted him, supported him, believed in him since day one.  
It was Jack who didn’t know what love meant. How could he possibly know?  
Someone sat beside him on the bench, and Jack glanced over. It was that man again. Was he just always around?  
“Hey there, cutie,” he said, and winked at Jack.  
“Hey.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“Hey!”  
“Hey there, cutie!”  
Jack groaned, but blushed happily.  
“Are we already starting with the nicknames?” he asked.  
“We’ve had nicknames for each other before,” Mark said.  
“Yeah. Like ‘looser’ and ‘piece of shit’.”  
“Are you more comfortable using those?” Mark asked, then raised a brow in a way that could be seen as seductive. “My sweet piece of shit, you.”  
Jack snorted. “Let’s go, looser.”  
Jack walked out of his apartment, and locked the door behind him before he followed Mark to his car.  
“So where are you planning on taking me,” Jack asked as soon as he was buckled up in the passenger seat.  
“To a place cheap enough that I can treat you without you feeling guilty about it, but expensive enough for the food to taste great,” Mark answered, and they grinned at each other.  
Mark ended up taking Jack to a place just like that. The food was not too expensive, but it was far from McDonald’s.  
They talked and laughed together like they usually did, but as Jack expected, there was some tension in the air. It was their first real date after all. After a year of friendship, is was weird transcending into a romantic relationship. So after eating seven of his twelve glazed chicken wings, Jack reached out and took a hold of Marks hand as the other was reaching for his glass. Mark hesitated, before slowly locking eyes with Jack. It was the first time they’d touched since meeting that day. They had honestly been more touchy feely when they were just friends.  
Jack smiled. “Are you scared?”  
“Scared that I’ll fuck it up, move to fast and freak you out?” Mark replied. “Yeah.”  
“Why would I freak out?” Jack asked. “I’ve told you I want this as much as you do.”  
Mark smiled and intertwined his fingers with Jacks, his drink forgotten. “It’s just hard to believe I guess. I wanted you for so long, but were so convinced that you didn’t want me like that. Sometimes I saw the signs, but you’re like that to everyone.”  
Jack shook his head, and gave Marks hand a squeeze. “Trust me. You’re special.”~  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
The man seemed surprised. This was the first time Jack had greeted him back.  
Jack just gave him a sad, lopsided smile before he turned his gaze to the ocean again. He heard the familiar sound of the stranger digging up his food from his bag.  
“I don’t know if you remember me,” the man suddenly said. “Probably not. But we’ve met once before. About three years ago at a party. I came a bit late, and most people were drunk by then, including you. We introduced ourselves, but we didn’t talk much, so I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”  
Jack looked over at the man, surprised. He didn’t remember him. There was probably a lot of people he’d met at parties that he didn’t remember. He himself was pretty memorable because of his green hair.  
“Yeah, I don’t. Sorry,” he mumbled. “Who was at the party? Who did you come with?”  
“I came alone.” The stranger leaned back and looked up at the cloudy sky. “But I was invited by Ryan. Or Cry, maybe you know him by that.”  
Jack felt his thumb twitch as he heard that familiar name. It had been a long time since he’d heard it. God forbid it ever came up with Mark around.  
“You and Mark were there,” the man continued. “Are you guys still together?”  
Jack nodded. The blonde seemed a little surprised at that for some reason. Jack couldn’t figure out why. He and Mark had been – as others would describe it – the “cutest” couple around back then. Most people were just waiting for them to get married. Why would this man be surprised they were still together?  
Unless he knew about Jacks fuck up… If he knew Cry, there was a chance that he did, though Cry wasn’t much of a teller.  
“That’s good,” The man said casually. “Not everyone would be as forgiving.”  
So he did know.  
Jack swallowed, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. “Do you… Are you guys still friends? You and Ryan?”  
“No,” the blonde answered, and he actually looked very sad about it.  
“Oh.”  
It got silent after that, and the uncomfortable feeling in Jack grew. This wasn’t a good weekend for him.  
“I should go,” Jack said. He felt too ashamed around the man now, knowing that he knew. He probably deserved to feel ashamed about it. Jack got up.  
“Wait!” the not-a-complete-stranger-after-all got up also, and to Jacks surprise, held out a hand for him to shake. “I’m Felix.”  
Jack studied Felix’ hand for a moment, unsure of what to do. Mark didn’t like Jack meeting new people, but Felix wasn’t really a new person, was he? It couldn’t hurt to just shake his hand. Jack smiled softly, and shook Felix’ hand.  
“Sean.”  
Felix’ grip was so firm, while Jack barely held on.

When Jack got home, he had to take a moment to breathe before the door. He had no idea what he could expect from Mark. Would he be pissed or just cold? Maybe he drunk so much that he forgot the whole ordeal. Or maybe he even wanted to be better. For Jack’s sake.  
Jack inhaled deeply, and exhaled shakily. Then he went inside. He could see Mark at once, sitting in the couch with his back towards him.  
“Hey,” Jack greeted as casually as he could muster while kicking of his shoes. He saw Mark put his cellphone on the couch beside him.  
“Hey, Jack,” he said, getting up from the couch and facing Jack who was putting away his jacket. “Where have you been?” He sounded calm enough.  
“I took a walk. It makes the hangover better.” He didn’t have a hangover.  
Mark gave him a skeptical look and reached out an open hand. “Can I look at your cellphone quick?”  
Jack nodded quickly and gave Mark his cell without hesitation. It was another agreement of theirs; full access to the others cellphone whenever.  
“I’ve been thinking,” Mark said absently while looking through Jacks last messages and chats on Facebook. There was little to see. Jack barely talked to anyone but Mark and his mother. “Do you remember when we used to talk about trying different things in bed?” Mark gave Jack his phone back, and Jack put it in the pocket of his jeans.  
“Ehm… Yeah.”  
“I remember you showed an especially big interest in BDSM.” Mark motioned for Jack to follow him, and Jack hesitantly followed his lover to the bedroom. “You even talked a little about a pain kink, and the want to be owned and dominated.”  
Jack swallowed thickly. This talk had been long ago, before everything was like… Like this. He trusted Mark to never hurt him then.  
“We never acted on it unfortunately. I guess we were too shy, and I myself couldn’t see myself being aroused while hurting you.” Mark smiled at Jack, and the smile sent shivers down Jacks spine that was very different from the shivers he felt when they first got together. “I think I could manage it now though.” Jacks fists balled up in tense dread. What was happening? “Sit down, please,” Mark said, pointing to the bed. Jack walked over and sat down in silence. Mark was acting a way he would never expect. He seemed giddy. Excited.  
Jack watched him as Mark picked up a bag from the desk and took out a…  
Jacks blood ran cold, and his hands gripped the bedsheets.  
“I went out and picked this up while you were gone,” Mark said calmly while studying the whip in his hand. It did not look like those short, pretty whips you got on a sex toy store. It looked like one of those that actually hurt. Marks small smile dropped as he glanced over at Jack. “Drop your clothes,” he said coldly.  
“Mark,” Jack whispered, his voice full of disbelieve. Mark had hurt him before, but always in blind rage. He had never planned it. He had never done it, seeming to be in so much control as he was now. And in the end, he’d always been ashamed. He didn’t seem ashamed now. He really thought Jack deserved this.  
Even sex had been mostly consented on Jacks side. They were having a hard time, but Mark was sweet a lot of the time when Jack followed the agreements. Jack was still attracted to him, and Mark had been always been able to make love to him when happy. Jack wasn’t attracted to the cold person in front of him now, and he felt far from loved.  
Whatever Mark was planning, Jack didn’t want it.  
“Go on, Jack,” Mark said impatiently, not looking at him.  
Jack inhaled sharply. “I think our sex life is fine as it is.” Like that was what this was about. He didn’t even know why he chose to play so naïve.  
Mark chuckled and shook his head, like Jack was a small child disobeying and stomping his foot. He went over to him, and bowed down so they could look straight into each others eyes. Mark studied Jacks face closely while Jack held his breath. The half-Asian seemed to be looking for something.  
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“You’re so beautiful,” Mark murmured, looking into Jacks baby blue eyes. Jack squirmed beneath him, a blush covering his cheeks.  
“You too,” he said through his grin while running his hands up Marks strong arms and resting them on his steady shoulders.  
“Your eyes are like a tropic ocean, filled with wonders unknown.” Jack rolled his eyes as Mark went from cutely romantic to his overly cliché deep voice. “Your hair like a bed of grass that I could lay my head upon and sleep the sleep of eternal bliss. You skin is like heavy snow; smooth and soft like the feather from an angels wing. Your dick-“  
“Mark!” Jack giggled. “Will you just get your cock out of me? It’s beginning to get itchy in there.”  
“Way to ruin the mood,” Mark mumbled, but slid out of Jack and plumped down beside him on the bed.  
“The time for being in the mood is over,” Jack said before pulling the cover over him. “You have to get going. The guys will be expecting you soon.”  
Mark pouted. “I regret saying that I’ll meet them today. I wanna stay here with you. Can’t I just tell them I’m sick?”  
Jack smiled and laid his forehead against Marks. “You said yes to hang out with them because you know you’ll have fun with them. Being in bed with me just seems tempting right now. Get up now, Mark.”  
“Alright, alright.” Mark sighed heavily and got up from the bed, but before he left for the bathroom he began packing Jack into the soft, white covers.  
“What are you doing?” Jack laughed.  
“I’m gonna make you into a delicious burrito!”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Mark leaned forward, and their lips met. The kiss was sweet and Marks breath smelled of sugar and coffee. Jack tried to bury his fear away as their lips moved against each other, because maybe this was all okay. Maybe this could be an exciting new experience. Their tongues touched now and then, teasingly, and Jack found himself wanting more. So when Mark began tugging on Jack’s shirt, Jack helped him pull it off. Mark climbed over him as Jack laid back on the bed, and warm fingers tangled themselves in Jacks hair. Jack moaned into Marks mouth as Mark gently tugged at it, and lifted his hips to grind against his lover. Mark grinded back, and at that moment, things felt blissful.  
Mark then pulled away, and manhandled Jack to lay on his stomach. Jack felt Marks lips leave a trail of kisses down his spine. Then Mark laid his arms around Jacks upper body and arms, and guided the smaller man into a position where Jack was sitting on his knees.  
“Stay like this for me, babe,” Mark said while nuzzling the crook of Jacks neck. Jack nodded, and Mark got off the bed. Jack didn’t really have the time to think about what Mark was doing before a cracking sound shot through the air. Jack inhaled sharply as a stabbing pain rippled through his back, and he fell forward. Quickly realizing what had happened, he turned to Mark with his hand raised in defense.  
“Mark, that hurts! Please-“  
“Get back in positon, Jack!” Mark barked, pointing an accusing finger at the Irishman. “If you feel even slightly sorry for what you said to me last night, you sit there and take it!”  
Jacks shivering lips clamped shut, and his hand fell. Slowly, while wringing his sweaty hands, Jack got back to sitting on his knees with his back to Mark.  
The next lash was even more painful than the first. The next was worse. The next, even worse.  
Pained whimpers turned into screams behind clenched teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was late, but longer than the others ^^,


	6. I'll be here if you change your mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not alot of people will wait around for you to change your mind.

The next morning, Jack laid on his stomach in bed after a sleepless night. The pain had been helping keeping him awake, but it was mostly thanks to his depressing thoughts.   
All he could think of was past memories, present pain and how it seemed like Mark wasn’t getting better. He was getting worse.  
But he couldn’t leave. It wasn’t an option, it had never been an option, it couldn’t be an option now. Jack wasn’t running away from his own mistakes, he took responsibility. He made this happen. It was his fault.  
Mark stirred beside him, and Jack felt wrong in his stomach when strong arms wrapped themselves around him. That didn’t feel right at all.  
“Good morning,” Mark murmured sleepily, running a hand down to Jack wounds and carefully feeling them. It didn’t hurt. The whip wasn’t the kind that left long gashes in the skin, but red, burning marks where the skin was sometimes slightly split open in the middle of the lines. The worse pain while whipping had been when the lines overlapped.  
Mark sighed and rolled over so that he was laying over Jack, resting with an elbow on each side of him. Softly, he began kissing the marks.  
“I feel like this is the right thing to do,” Mark said calmly. “If we have agreements, then we got to have punishments for not following them. How would they make sense otherwise?”  
Jack had a lot to say against that, but he kept his mouth shut. He had decided long ago that he wanted to stay with Mark during these trying times, but he didn’t have to agree with everything.  
“I’ll make breakfast,” Mark said, and jumped out of bed to get dressed. He seemed happy and energized. Every other time they had disagreements like the last two days, Mark would be in a foul mood long after. It seems like the lashings made him calm down sooner.  
Was it possibly worth it? Normally, Jack always preferred a happy Mark to a grumpy or angry one, but today it made him feel a little sick. He didn’t want Mark to be so carefree the morning after such a horrible night for Jack.  
Jack laid in bed the whole day, save for bathroom breaks. He felt too tired and depressed to get up. Mark took care of him and brought food and water to the bed. Sometimes he stayed with him, but picked up that Jack wanted to be alone, and let him be for the most part. He didn’t talk anymore about last night, and didn’t comment on Jacks behavior.  
When night came, Mark got in beneath the covers beside him, and pulled Jack close. The arms that used to feel so safe to him, felt like heavy bars holding him in place.

Jack looked at the two things in his hands. His cellphone. His charger. Was it weird that he told himself to bring what was most important to him, and this is all he brought? Was there really not more in their home he felt attached to? Was this all he had?  
Well, if he didn’t count his card in his pocket.  
He leaned forward and laid his forehead against his knee. He probably looked like an idiot, but he didn’t mind.  
Everything hurt. Everything was wrong. He was no longer drifting on the tide of ‘it’s gonna get better someday.’ He just felt trapped by his own promises.  
But he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t leave.  
“If you wanna suck your own dick, it seems like you gotta work on your flexibility.”  
Jacks mental reaction to hearing that familiar voice was an annoyed eye-roll. Of course he couldn’t spend ten minutes on this bench without Felix intruding. Surprisingly, his physical reaction was to burst into laughter.   
He sucked in air and straightened his body. Felix was looking at him with an arched eyebrow and a curled lip.  
“What the fuck do you want?” Jack asked, his emotions tumbling around in a confusing mix of giddiness and anger. Maybe it was giddiness over finally having somewhere to put that anger. “Are you just desperate for some company? Are you going to steal from me, are you planning on scamming me? Are you stalking me? Do you wanna fuck? I don’t get it. What do you want?” He was kind of shouting, but there was nobody close enough to hear him over the sound of traffic.  
Felix looked stunned for a moment, his mouth open in a pretty O. Jack gave him an expectant look, and Felix cleared his throat.  
There was a moment of his mouth opening and closing before he found his words; “I heard Mark used to have some anger problems. How is he now?”  
The anger leaving him was pretty close to the air leaving a tire. It was amazing how his emotions could be so alive the first second, and so flat the next. Jack sighed and laid his forehead against his knee again, the same tiredness from before washing over him.  
He didn’t bother saying anything. If he lied, Felix could probably see right through it. He didn’t bother telling Felix that it was none of his business either, because Felix already knew that. If he still chose to stick his nose in it, a simple ‘mind your own business’ never stopped anybody.  
This didn’t seem like a man that minded his own business.  
And Jack was in a ‘fuck it’ mood. He wanted to do wrong. It never seemed to get better no matter how much right he tried to do.  
“Are you OK?”  
Jack sighed and shook his head.  
“Do you have a place to sleep tonight?”  
Jacks grip around the charger tightened.  
No, he didn’t. It wasn’t like he was leaving Mark, he just needed a break. He just needed some space. That was normal in a relationship. He wasn’t leaving him.  
The thing was, Jack didn’t have any friends. He only knew Marks friends, and he didn’t want Mark to know where he was. Just because Jack needed some time away from him of course. He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t leaving.  
“You could stay with me if you want.”  
Jack’s breath caught in his throat at Felix’ offer.  
What was with this guy?  
Jack slowly straightened to look at the taller man again. Felix raised a brow expectantly, but Jack saw his Adam apple bob nervously.   
“How can I know that I can trust you?” Jack asked.  
“I’m pretty sure it’s safer to be with me than to be with Mark,” Felix answered with a stupid grin on his face.  
How would he know? How could he say that?  
Jacks eyes narrowed. “You don’t know shit about Mark,” he said through gritted teeth. “How could you even assume something like that?” He got up from the bench. “How about you stop stalking me, and just stay the fuck away from the both of us?” Jack walked off then while the anger boiled inside him.  
That fucker didn’t know shit! He didn’t know SHIT!  
But why did it seem like he knew exactly what was going on then?  
“I’ll be here if you change your mind!” Felix called after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it annoying that I answer all comments?


	7. Stay here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stay where you're feeling happy

The room was silent, and the tension thick enough to cut through. Jack tapped his fingers nervously against each other while pretending as hard as he could that the situation was not awkward as hell. On the other side of the coffee table, sitting on his ugly faded yellow couch, Ethan seemed to be pretending just as much. And failing just as much.  
Jack was about to apologize and get the hell out of there when Ethan finally spoke.  
“You can stay here. Of course you can stay here.” A smile fluttered at his lips, and though it seemed shaky, it looked friendly.   
Jack sighed in relieve. “Thank you, Ethan. It’s just for a night, I promise. I would stay at a hotel, but…”  
But Mark could check all his incomes and outcomes, and would see if Jack paid for a night at a hotel, and which hotel he stayed at. “I really don’t like hotels,” Jack finished awkwardly.  
“No, no. Don’t think about it.” Ethan’s smile seemed easier now, like he had finally come to terms with his own decision. “I get it. Mark can be…” his voice faltered as he tried to come up with the right words. “Relationships can be hard at times. Are you hungry?”  
Jack blushed. “I can make dinner as a thanks for-“  
“Relax, Jack! It’s no bother at all. You know what? It’s great having you here! You’ve never slept over here before, and we are friends after all, right?”  
Jack was taken aback for a moment by the kindness, but quickly broke out in a smile and nodded.  
He had never been alone with Ethan before, but it was natural to sometimes become close friends with a partner’s friend after all. It had been natural to Jack once too. Now he was almost expecting to hear approaching police sirens.  
“And none of us needs to make dinner,” Ethan continued, and now he seemed as happy and excited as ever, as if Jack had asked for a slumber party, not for a place to stay to avoid his boyfriend. “We can order a pizza, make cupcakes, watch a movie and play this cool new puzzle game I’ve wanted to try out!”  
Really, this was quickly turning into a slumber party.

Jack and Ethan made a batch of cupcakes while they waited for their order to arrive, – not from the bottom, they actually wanted a decent result – and when the pizza came, they placed the unfinished cupcakes in the oven and put on a zombie movie while stuffing their face with pizza dripping with golden cheese.  
It had honestly been a long time since Jack had had such a good time. They laughed and joked around a lot while baking, and the movie seemed really cool. It had been such a long time since Jack had been having fun with someone without Mark, and it was like he had been holding his breath without even knowing. Everything seemed so much easier with just Ethan. Jack didn’t feel like he was walking on eggshells, and that one wrong word could fuck up the whole day. He didn’t feel threatened. He didn’t feel small. He didn’t feel guilty.  
He was just having a good time.  
Until Ethan’s phone started ringing on the table, and Jack could see from his position who was calling. Mark.  
Jack had already sent Mark a message, saying that he needed some time away and would come back tomorrow. After sending that message, he turned off his phone while trying to convince himself that it wasn’t because he was afraid of what Mark would answer.  
Ethan glanced over at Jack, uncertainty in his gentle eyes.  
“You can’t tell him I’m here,” Jack whispered before he could stop himself.  
Ethan frowned, and Jack realized his mistake. Ethan thought Mark and Jack willingly were taking a break, not that Jack had pretty much ran away in hiding.  
The phone kept vibrating on the table as Ethan clearly was contemplating what Jack had just said. When Ethan finally reached for the phone, Jack held his breath in anticipation. Would Ethan rat Jack out? He was Marks best friend after all. It was a lot to ask of him, to lie to his friend.  
“Hey. What’s up?” Ethan said casually into his phone, his face like stone. Silence. “No, I haven’t heard from him. Why?” Jack released the breath he was holding, and smiled thankfully as Ethan glanced over at him.  
There was a reason why he had chosen to come to Ethan. Jack didn’t have any friends for himself. He didn’t really trust anybody. He didn’t want to depend on anyone. But he had to stay somewhere. And even though Mark had never done any harm to Jack in front of his friends, and Jack had always thought there was no way any of them knew what was going on, one thing had made him wonder if maybe Ethan had a clue.  
“Did he hurt you?”  
Ethan had asked on Saturday after Mark and Jacks fight. It was a weird thing for someone to ask about a close friend, wasn’t it? But then again; who knew Mark better than his friends?  
Jack sat in silence until Ethan finished the conversation and hung up. The blue haired boy then looked at Jack with a serious expression.  
“If I’m keeping secrets for you, you don’t get to keep secrets from me,” he said.  
Jack groaned and buried his face in the couch. “I’m not keeping secrets from you,” he said, his voice muffled. He cringed as he said it. He hated lying.  
“He’s my friend, Jack,” Ethan sad sternly. “I deserve to know what’s happening. Why can’t he know that you’re here?” Jack heard Ethan scoot closer to him. “Would he come here for you? Would he hurt you?”  
“No,” Jack groaned. He felt like he was going to throw up. Ethan laid a hand on his back, and Jack flinched away. He thought he could deal with Ethan knowing. He thought it would make him feel better, that someone understood. But now, he suddenly felt like he was betraying Mark. Ratting him out to his friend. Ethan may understand what was going on between Mark and Jack, but he wouldn’t understand that Jack deserved it. He would just blame Mark. He would think Jack was the victim. That he was weak. “He wouldn’t. Why would he? What-“ Jack was crawling of the couch and walking away. He felt dizzy and breathless like he had been running. He was scared. He almost told him. He almost ruined everything. “What do you think of me?” he snapped back over his shoulder at a big eyed Ethan. “Do you think I would let him hurt me?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“Do you think I would let him touch me?”  
“Like he needed you to let him! You were fucking all over him!”  
“I wasn’t all over him! I was just talking to him! Have you heard about that, Mark? Have you heard about having a friendly conversation with someone?”  
“If that was a friendly conversation, then I guess you and I are just friends.”  
“Oh yes, because I took him out on a dinner and then fucked him, that’s what I did! No! I talked to him about fucking cultural differences in Ireland while I may have laid a hand on his fucking shoulder! I guess I might as well marry him now since we’ve taken it so far already!”  
The sarcasm felt like bile in Jacks mouth. He felt mean and nasty, but he hated when Mark got unfair like this. Jack touched people, but it wasn’t like he was feeling them up. It was always just a friendly hand on the shoulder or arm, or a hug. Jack liked hugging people he met; it created trust.  
Mark groaned and plopped down on the couch, burying his face in his hands. Jack stood by the entrance with his arms crossed and his teeth gritted.  
Silence fell over them.   
Then Mark gave a heavy sigh.  
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into his hands. “I know… I know it must suck for you. Having a good time, and then I suddenly come and turn it around. I know you hate fighting. I really don’t want to be like this. Jealous, I mean. I just… Sometimes you give others so much attention, and I don’t feel so special to you anymore. I feel like just another face in the crowd of people you want so badly to please. I don’t mind you talking to others and getting to know them. I don’t even mind you touching them now and then. Just…” Mark lowered his hands some, so that just his eyes were showing. The brown puppy dog eyes looked up at Jack over tan fingertips, and Jack felt his heart melt. “Could you just remember to now and then show me that I’m still special to you when we’re with other people? Kiss me, hold my hand, put an arm around me or whatever. Just remind me that you’re still mine.”  
“Aw, Mark.” Jack went forward to sit next to his lover and wrapped his arms around him. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that,” he apologized, kissing every inch of skin he could get to on Marks body.  
It was true. Sometimes he was so caught up in being the center of the party, he completely forgot about Mark. This evening he had pretty much not talked to Mark since they arrived until they left the party. He was so busy talking to everyone else.  
“You’re so special to me Mark,” Jack said while burying his face in the crook of Marks neck.  
Mark hummed contently.  
“You’re the most important thing in my life,” Jack continued. “You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning, and the last thing on my mind when I fall asleep. I love you.”  
“I love you too, Jack. I’m sorry for yelling.”  
“I forgive you. There is nothing I couldn’t forgive you for.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“Fuck. I’m sorry, Ethan.”  
He felt so stupid for coming here. He felt bad for making Ethan lie for him, and lying back to him. He felt like shit for getting angry when Ethan was being so nice. And he felt like an idiot for thinking that he could actually have a fun night. Did he really think he could just forget about everything?  
“I should go,” he mumbled, already on his way.  
“Come on, Jack,” Ethan called from behind him. “Don’t be ashamed, please.”  
The fact that Ethan even saw that he was ashamed, just made the feeling worse.   
Jack stepped into his shoes, grabbed his leather jacket and turned to Ethan with an apologetic look.  
“Thank you for letting me stay for some time, Ethan. And don’t worry about it. Mark’s done nothing wrong; I’m just overreacting after a fight.”  
Jack gave a stiff smile that Ethan didn’t return. The blue haired boy just looked at him, uncertainty dancing in his eyes. Then he sighed and crossed his arms.  
“Okay then. Guess I’ll see you again later.”  
Jack nodded, opened the door and walked out. He was almost of Ethan’s property when Ethan called after him, and Jack stopped and turned around.  
Ethan was leaning against the doorframe, and the usually happy face seemed dead serious.  
“You’re not alone. You never will be. So stop trying so hard to be.”  
Before Jack could quite digest what had been said to him, Ethan had gone inside, and the door had been closed – shutting the light in, and leaving Jack out in the dark.


	8. Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If I'm feeling cold inside, tea always warms me up.

Once upon a time, a time that felt like a lifetime ago, there was a Jack that wouldn’t recognize the Jack that was now. They would be the exact opposite. Jack from the past would determinedly try to befriend the Jack from the present, and Jack from the present would desperately try to push the Jack from the past away.  
He used to know everyone. Now he knows no one. Everyone knew him. Nobody knows him.  
He had always been scared though. His fears had just been twisted, and it was difficult choosing which fear was the worst to live with. The fear of not fitting in and not pleasing everyone? Or the fear of letting people get close?  
The short story is; Jack from the past would have cringed himself into a ball at how the present Jack just pushed Ethan away and left. Ethan had been so good to him…  
Jack had turned on his phone again, and saw that Mark had replied to him.  
‘Alright sweetie, I get that. But come back to me soon, OK?”  
Jack had expected him to be pissed. Maybe he was a bad person for thinking the worst of Mark. In some twisted way, Mark had his reasons for hurting him.  
The night was silent. It had been a good walk from Ethan’s house. Now Jack could hear the sound of rolling waves and a whistling wind. Cool air breathed over his bare skin, and goosebumps formed on his arms.  
He was by the city again. By the ocean again. By that bench again.  
He had planned to go home, crawl into Marks bed and apologize. But memories of a warm embrace and coffee-eyes had turned into smothering chains and cold stares. He didn’t want to go back to all the guilt and fear.  
Silently, he sat down on the cold, hard bench. Somehow, being out in the cold, silent night – guarded from darkness by a simple streetlight - seemed better than being anywhere else right then. It wasn’t because of a presence of happiness in this place. It was the absence of happiness everywhere else.  
He had sworn to himself and Mark that he would never leave. But every time he left the house, it was harder to make himself go back.  
“Hey there, cu-“  
“OH MY FUCKING GOD, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” Jack jumped up and swiveled around to see the amused interrupter stand behind the bench dressed in a comically big pink sweater. “Who the fuck are you?”  
“I’m Felix Kjellberg,” Felix said with a shrug.  
“I mean, what are you doing here?”  
“Well, I said I’d be here if you changed you mind.”  
Jacks brows disappeared into his hairline while Felix just smiled friendly at him. Jack then snorted and shook his head in disbelief.  
“If you’re planning on kidnapping me, this is the perfect moment,” he said, holding his arms out as to demonstrate how empty this place was.  
Felix chuckled. “I guess it is.”  
Yet, they both just stood there in silence.  
“What do you want?” Jack interrupted the silence, making it clear in his voice that he was tired of bullshit. Felix must have picked up on that, because the next words were said with a straight face;  
“I want you to come home with me instead of shivering by yourself on this bench.”  
“Have you been waiting out here for me?”  
Felix chuckled again, shook his head, and pointed towards a building on the other side of the roundabout and over the street. It was almost out of sight behind a Greek restaurant, but Jack could see the yellow, flaking walls that made up an ugly apartment complex. How anyone could live in the city, so close to such a busy road, Jack didn’t understand.  
“I live right there,” Felix said with a grin.  
Well, it wouldn’t be the first thing about him that puzzled Jack.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Jack had been obsessed with making people like him. He always smiled, as bright as he could, because that was likable. He looked people in the eye, because that was likable. He gave them a lot of attention and compliments. He made them laugh. He touched them.  
In return, Jack was the kind of guy everybody liked. People cheered when he walked into the party – they all got up to talk to him. They smiled back at him. They looked him in the eye. They gave him all the attention, showered him in compliments, laughed at all his jokes and blushed as he laid a hand on their shoulder. When he had to leave, they all asked him to stay.  
Almost two years into a relationship too good to be true, when Jack was nearing his 25th birthday, he met someone who didn’t laugh at all his jokes or blushed at his touches. Someone who didn’t care when he came, and didn’t notice when he left. And weirdly enough, this persons face ended up being the only one Jack could see in the crowd.  
He was a friend of a friend, and brought with him his own group of people to the parties. Those people liked Jack. He himself didn’t seem impressed.  
He had brown, silken curls dancing into his eyes – aqua-eyes that seemed to always be alight with amusement at some internal joke. Pink lips, framed by thin, uneven beard, always seemed curled up in this tiny, secretive smirk. He sat in crowded rooms - surrounded by light and thundering music – and yet he seemed to be by himself. Everything in the room was moving and making sound, but he had this aura of calm about him.  
Jack could never join him in his bubble of calmness as long as he wanted to please the noisy crowd. Anyone else would have accepted this. They would have been happy with the crowd, why would they care about that one person?  
But Jack; he needed everybody to like him.  
So when he went to the next party, he didn’t smile as bright. He barely looked anyone in the eyes. He didn’t give them attention, and he didn’t compliment them. He didn’t make them laugh. He didn’t touch them.  
After enough time, they gave up on making him the center of the party. They though that maybe he was tired or sick. Maybe he’d had a bad day. And as Mark was out in the kitchen, getting himself something to drink and joking around with his friends, Jack slipped out to the porch.  
Out there, the sound turned quiet. The lights dimmed into cold starlight on a dark sky. Warm air, filled with the smell of sweat, perfume and alcohol turned into chilling, fresh air smelling of pine needles.  
Jack went to sit on one of the white garden stools overlooking the garden below. Next to him, with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other, sat Cry.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Felix’s apartment seemed to almost be unused. Moving-boxes were still stacked in corners, and only essential furniture filled the apartment. There was a TV and a couch in the living room, and the kitchen had an oven, a refrigerator, kitchen benches and everything a kitchen needed. A quick look into the open bedroom showed a single bed. All of Felix’s clothes seemed to be lying in boxes or on the floor. The place seemed so cold and empty without any pictures on the walls or flowers in the windowsills. All light came from downlights in the roof, which Felix had dimmed pretty low. The walls were a blank white, and the floor was made of dark, scratched wood. There were no carpets on the floor, or decorative blankets and pillows on the couch. There wasn’t even any dinner or coffee tables.  
“Home, sweet home,” Felix said sarcastically.  
“Did you just move here?” Jack asked.  
Felix absentmindedly walked through the living room towards the kitchen with his slender hands in the pockets or his baggy… Not jeans… Not sweatpants… What kind of pants were those? Looked like fucking construction pants.  
“Yeah, I did,” Felix answered. Jack followed him into the kitchen, and Felix pointed out a long, horizontally window in the kitchen wall. As Jack walked close and peered out, he saw that he had a pretty good view of the bench Jack used to sit on.  
“And I who thought you just spent a lot of time in the library,” Jack teased, and Felix grinned at him.  
“I do,” he murmured. “You want some tea? Or instant coffee?” he asked as he went to fill a water heater with water.  
“No, thank you.” Jack began chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. “You’re gonna have to tell me why you always come to me, you know.”  
Felix turned to him and leaned towards the kitchen bench while he waited for the water to boil.  
“As I said, I’m new here. I haven’t really moved far, just about an hour or so of driving. But there is still a lot of distance between me and my friends. I recognized you when I saw you from the library window, and thought you could be a great way of meeting some new people.” Felix’s gaze dropped. “You used to know pretty much everyone.”  
Jack nodded, still chewing thoughtfully on his bottom lip.   
“Anyway,” Felix looked up at him again with a smile. “It was obvious from the first meeting that you didn’t recognize me.”  
Jack smiled awkwardly, his cheeks getting warm. He had been pretty damn rude that first time.  
The water finished boiling, and Felix made himself a cup of tea. He and Jack sat down on the couch in the living room, and Felix offered to turn on the TV. Jack said yes, thinking it would be a nice distraction from the awkward silence of being with someone he barely knew. But while Felix was jumping between channels, trying to find something, they talked. They talked about Felix moving, his laziness, his past friends and his childhood years in Sweden. When they finally found a show to watch, they still talked. They talked about Jack’s art, his apartment, his love for decorative things and colors and which dog they would get if they got one. When the clock struck four and their enthusiastic, loud voices turned into calm whispers, they were talking about the parties they’d been to together where Felix had remembered Jack, but Jack hadn’t remembered Felix.  
After all, everyone noticed Jack. He was the center of the party. Dancing and laughing under the spotlight. Bowing to the booming applause. Roses were thrown at his feet. Black roses, with thorns bigger than fingers. The spotlight kept getting brighter, and brighter until he couldn’t see. He could only hear the cheering of the crowd turn into haunting screams, and the creaking from the floor under him.  
“The roses,” he heard a voice mutter. It was calm and far away, but still sounded over the screaming. “They are breaking the stage. He’s gonna fall.”  
When Jack woke up, it was still dark outside and Felix was asleep next to him on the couch.


	9. He should have left you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hard truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ~ means that we're jumping back in time. It looked alot cleaner with just one of them I think.

When Jack woke up, it didn’t take him more than seconds to panic.  
He’s not at home with Mark. He’s not in bed with Mark. He’s with someone else again.  
Jack inhaled, and his breath was shaking. He pushed himself up from the couch. The panic was rushing inside of him- waking him up faster than a cup of coffee ever could do.  
Fuck, fuck, fuck! He had slept at someone else’s house! If Mark knew…  
Jack had to sit down again. His head was spinning.  
If Mark knew he would be so sad.  
He would be mad.  
He would be heart broken.  
Pissed.  
He would kill him.  
His breath was shaking. And it was getting weaker. It was like he had something stuck in his throat. Fear, probably. Guilt, likely.  
He had to get home to Mark at once. But he couldn’t.  
‘He’s gonna kill me,’ he thought.  
His breath was shaking. It was getting quicker.  
He had slept at someone else’s house! He hadn’t answered Marks message. He’d made Ethan lie to him. He’d slept at someone else’s house.  
He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. He could not shake himself loose from the mantra that was repeating in his head over and over.  
‘I slept at someone else’s house, and Mark’s gonna kill me. I slept at someone else’s house, and Mark’s gonna kill me.’  
He had to get home. He couldn’t go home.  
“Breathe.”  
Fuck, how he hated himself. He hated how he so weakly turned to someone else. He had promised Mark to never, ever run to anyone else ever again. And it was never about Mark being angry. It was about him being hurt. For two years Jack had been haunted by the look of utter hurt in Marks eyes. Those puppy-dog-eyes who used to look at Jack with so much compassion and love. They had never looked at him that way again.  
“Breathe. In… Out…”  
But Mark had stayed. Because he loved him. And because Jack promised – promised – to never betray him again. They both swore each other; they would put their hearts back together. They would build up the fallen trust. They still loved each other.  
‘But you cannot be with anyone else without me for a while,’ Mark had said. And Jack agreed.  
‘You cannot touch people like you usually do’ Mark had said. And Jack agreed.  
‘You cannot go anywhere without telling me where you go. And you go alone.’ Jack agreed.  
Because if that’s what it took to erase the hurt from Marks eyes, that’s what he would do.  
“In… Out… In… Out…”  
He never thought it would go this far. He never thought it would be this hard. Rules Jack had willingly agreed to had long ago turned into chains that kept him from living his life and being who he was. He felt like he was sitting in a cage, waiting for the beast outside to turn calm. The beast who he had maddened.  
It wasn’t Marks fault. It really wasn’t.  
Jack inhaled. Long and deep, though his breath was still shaking.  
“Everything is OK.”  
Jack opened his eyes, and met a pair of blues that wasn’t too different from his own. They were soft and concerned in the otherwise sharp face.  
“It’s not OK,” Jack murmured. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
“I know more than I should know,” Felix answered.  
Jack looked away. The other man probably did know more than he should. Cry must have told him things.  
“I know you should wish I knew nothing,” Felix continued. “But as someone who does know, I can’t stand on the side and do nothing. You need someone to tell you that you have to get out of that place. He’s no good for you.”  
“He’s done more for me than anyone else,” Jack said, ready to defend their relationship like he always planned to when it came to this.  
“He probably has. But he’s not doing you any good now. He’s not like he was.”  
“How do you know this?” Jack asked, his voice getting louder. He convinced himself that it was just anger, and not terror. Terror of being found out. He didn’t want anyone to say Mark was an abuser. He didn’t want to be an abused. He wasn’t. He was just dealing with his own damn karma.  
“I was told long ago about his temper,” Felix said. “Didn’t think of it then when you both were happy, but I thought about it when Cry told me what you did. Anyone would be mad. And then people talked about you disappearing. You thought no one would take notice? That the life of every party suddenly declined every phone call and ignored every message?” Felix reached out and took one of Jacks hands, but Jack winced and pulled away. Felix didn’t seem to mind, but let his hand hang between them as Jack glared at him. “And when I met you again that day, I didn’t recognize you,” Felix said, and he sounded genuinely sad about it. “You looked the same. Same green hair, same face and the same accent. But you’ve turned into someone else.”  
Jack tried to swallow down the lump in his throat, but it just made it itch.  
“Everybody changes,” he said, and cursed his hoarse voice giving away how emotional he was getting.  
“Not like this. One only changes like this when they’ve been hurt.”  
Jack inhaled sharply, then let out something between a laugh and a sob. The emotions rippled through his body, and he had to stand up. Felix took a step backwards, and Jack walked away from him, into the kitchen where he folded his arms and looked out the window.  
“I Haven’t been hurt,” he said. “I hurt him.”  
“Yes, and a person who hurts another is invincible for the rest of his life,” Felix said sarcastically from behind him.  
“It’s what I deserve!”  
“It’s not.”  
“So you think what I did wasn’t wrong? Do you think it was OK?”  
“No.”  
“But I do not deserve to be punished for it?” Jack grimaced at his own choice of words. It wasn’t punishments, it was agreements. Agreements.  
“Yes, you do,” Felix said. Jack heard the swede come up behind him. “You deserve to lose him. He should have left you.”  
Jack turned towards Felix with wide eyes. “But I don’t want that,” he said with a shake of his head. “He doesn’t want that. Mark would never want to leave me.”  
“Why wouldn’t he?” Felix asked, and Jack suddenly felt vulnerable under Felix’s cold stare. Not in the way he would feel with Mark, when Mark was angry with him. But vulnerable in the way that those eyes seemed to read him like an open book.  
“He loves me,” Jack answered softly.  
“Does he?” Felix asked, and cocked his head. “Does he look at you lovingly? Touch you lovingly? Treat you lovingly?”  
“Sometimes…”  
“And you love him, huh? What exactly do you love about him?”  
Jack took a step back, as if to distance himself from the conversation, but his butt hit the empty dinner table underneath the kitchen window. He shrugged and looked away.  
“I love his humor,” he said softly. “When he does stupid things to make me laugh. And that he’s romantic. Kind. Playful.” Jack swallowed tickly. “Trusting.”  
It sure was Mark alright. The way he’d been two years ago.  
“And what does he love about you?” Felix asked with no mercy for Jacks spiraling emotions.  
Jack hesitated.

~  
Jack giggled like a child, skipping around the room as Mark stepped into his jeans.  
“Arhmagahd, I’m gonna take all the rollercoasters! I’m gonna eat all the cottoncandy!” Jack pointed at Mark. “I’m gonna win you a big fucking elephant!”  
Mark snorted and pulled a red shirt over his head.  
“I could jump through the roof right now, Mark! I’m so fucking excited! My tummy is tingling!” Jack blew up his cheeks, and for a moment it looked like his face was going to explode. Then he let out a loud meaningless yell.  
Mark looked at him weirdly while combing his fingers through his own dark hair.  
“Fuck, even the lines are fun! There are lots of people to talk to! Maybe we’ll meet someone new. Maybe we’ll meet someone we know!”  
Jack giggled again, but abruptly stopped when he felt warm hands on either side of his face. Brown, warm eyes looked at him with adore, and then warm lips met his own.  
~

“That I’m happy,” Jack whispered.  
“You don’t love each other,” Felix said, his voice more empathic than before. “You’re both clinging on to each other in hope that you’ll turn back to the people you once loved. It will never get back to the way it was before you cheated, Jack. You’re not doing anything good to Mark by staying with him. You’re just keeping him from moving on. He could work on himself. He could meet someone else that would make him happy.”  
Ice settled into Jacks stomach. A lonely tear ran down his cheek, so subtly he didn’t even notice it coming. Denial flooded his brain.  
“No,” he said as he shook his head. He looked up at Felix, but not as defiantly as he had hoped. “You don’t know anything.”  
Jack pushed Felix aside, and stormed out of the apartment.

~  
Every time Jack and Cry met, they met alone. When at parties, in crowds, they didn’t really talk. It’s like they didn’t know each other. But alone, they talked about everything.  
Jack, who was so used to always smiling and jumping around with energy, could finally relax his shoulders and tell about his self-doubt and puzzling late-night loneliness.  
Cry, who was used to being alone and never opening up, could finally speak out about his depression and hidden away anger.  
It was an odd bond. It wasn’t like any other relationship Jack had ever had. It was calm and steady. There wasn’t any loud laughter, excited ideas or friendly banter. Just calm conversation about what they usually thought about when they were alone. Full honesty, full openness. Every secret, guilty pleasure and flawed opinion told.  
Jack didn’t care if Cry liked him. It was refreshing. Liberating.  
He wasn’t sure he liked Cry.  
Besides sexual attraction.  
Every time Jack and Cry met, Jack told Mark he was going somewhere else. He felt bad, but he knew Mark would get jealous. Mark would want to come too, and Jack didn’t want to share this. He couldn’t be like this with Mark. He couldn’t be like this with anyone.  
And as time went on, Mark would have a lot of reasons to be jealous.  
“Sometimes I wonder if I’m a narcissist,” Jack said, one evening as they were sitting at a bus stop in a random neighborhood.  
Every time Jack and Cry met, they were outside somewhere. They pretty much talked everywhere they could sit. Cry smoked a lot, so he liked being outside. The American also expressed that he spent a lot of time coped up in his own apartment, and that it was nice to get out.  
“Often, I feel like I’m drowning in self-doubt,” Jack continued. “I feel like I’m slow and annoying and can’t do things as well as others can. But then again, it’s like a part of me don’t really believe that. A part of me thinks of me as better than everyone else. It thinks I have these abilities that no one else has. Like I’m one of those ‘special snowflake’ kinds of people, you know. Even though I haven’t done anything to prove that.” He looks over at Cry, and Cry is looking back at him, the cigarette between his fingers forgotten. “Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror, and think that…” Jack rolled his eyes and looked away. “I think that I’m beautiful. Way more beautiful than most people. And then I worry. Cause I’d rather be a little self-loathing than arrogant.”  
Jack looks back at Cry, and can see that the aqua-eyed man is thinking, so he lets him think in silence.  
“I think you look average,” Cry finally says, and Jack hated the sting of hurt he feels at the word. Then again, Cry is never anything but bluntly honest. “I think… I think you look average to people,” Cry continues, and he seems hesitant. Not because he’s embarrassed or ashamed, but because he’s figuring out his own feeling as he speaks. “It’s hard for me to clearly see. You look beautiful to me.”  
It feels like an army of ants is running up the walls on the inside of Jacks stomach. When Cry leans forward, and kisses him, it feels completely new. With everything Jack knows about Cry – his dark desires, evil intentions and hidden secrets – it feels like he’s kissing something dirty and forbidden. There was lust and disgust at the same time, and there is a reason why it’s called dirty sex. It’s not pretty sex, or clean sex. Who was ever interested in that?  
Jack felt Cry’s hands roam over him, and he knew that – just like with their conversations – everything would be out in the open. Everything was allowed, and no desire or want would be hidden.  
Every time Jack and Cry met, they went a little further. And a little further. A little further. And all the way.


	10. A white knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you wanna help, but you just make it worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are nearing the end! After this, there is about three chapters left. It's been a good run, and I'm very happy to actually be finishing a story.  
> Thank you to all my readers and reviewers! Shit is about to go down.  
> Btw, I've added a tag.

Jack went over his story a thousand times in his head. Making up, rewriting, double-checking, worrying. In his head, when he got home Mark would ask a million questions. He had to have an answer for all of them. Jack just hoped Mark hadn’t checked what Jack used money on. His back-up-story involved sleeping at a hotel. And because of overthinking, he had come up with a hotel, a room number, description of room, description of breakfast and pretty much every detail he could come up with.  
Only problem; Jack was a terrible liar. Not because he was a lousy actor, but because he felt too guilty doing it. So when he stood outside the door to their home, his hands were sweaty from anxiety. Maybe Mark wouldn’t even ask questions. Maybe he would be too busy being pissed as fuck that Jack even left.  
Jack quietly unlocked the door and opened it. Like it made sense to sneak into his own house.  
It was quiet inside. Jack didn’t feel like changing that. He took of his shoes and went to put his jacket on the wall when Mark appeared in the doorway, just as quiet as Jack had been.  
Jack froze with his hands in the air, clutching the jacket. Mark just looked at him, and Jack looked back, trying to translate the look in his lovers eyes. It wasn’t one he recognized.  
For a moment Jack thought it had to be anger. Marks eyes were dark, and his jaw clenched.  
Then Jack thought it had to be worry. Because Marks fingers were constantly moving, rubbing against each other. Hard.  
Then again, it could be confusion in the way Marks brow furrowed, and his mouth hung a little open.  
Then suddenly warm hands were over him. The jacket feel from his grasp, hitting the floor with a sound that no one heard. Marks hands felt desperate and forceful. Fear of pain made Jack’s whole body tense up, but warm palms smoothed over his back and sides. Jack gasped sharply as his back hit the door, and his clothes were pushed in every direction at once as Mark explored his skin. He wasn’t careful, but it didn’t hurt either, and Jack let himself relax into the touches. His hands hesitantly sneaked their way up to Marks dark hair, and his fingers tangled themselves into it.  
Mark was currently digging his face into Jacks neck, like he would find the meaning of life there, but looked up once he felt the tug at his hair.  
Jack almost sobbed when Marks brown eyes fixed on his. They were warm and open. They were so inviting, Jack could drown in them.  
“Hey, puppy,” Jack murmured, his old nick-name for Mark leaving his lips without thinking. Mark shut those eyes away, leaned in and pressed his lips against Jacks.   
Without moving away, he said; “Thought I scared you away.” His lips traveled from his mouth to his neck, right under his ear, and his breath made the hairs on Jacks back stand. “I though that maybe I’d lost you.” Marks arms wrapped themselves around Jack, and pulled their bodies flush together. Jack could feel the older man shake his head. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.”  
Suddenly, Felix’s words rang in Jacks mind; ‘You deserve to lose him. He should have left you.’  
Jack tried to shake away the memory, and instead lose himself in Marks touches that were getting more and more heated by the minute. Jacks jeans were pulled down over his hips, and he let them fall to the floor so that he could step out of them with his socks still on. Marks mouth found his again, and Jack melted into a tongued kiss that drew whimpers from him.  
Mark wanted Jack. If he wanted to leave him, he would have left.  
‘You’re both clinging on to each other in hopes that you’ll turn back to the people you once loved.’  
No. This was the Mark that Jack loved. He was right here; touching him, kissing him, holding him. His eyes were warm now. They were like they used to.  
Used to?  
Jacks moving hands halted, and he pulled away. Marks hands stopped also. Jack looked up, into those eyes that always used to comfort him in their bonfire. They were still warm. Like before. But now they were a little unsure. A speck of something cold were in there. Something cold that had grown so familiar to Jack the past two years. It was but a speck of dust in Marks eye, but for every second that Jack hesitated, it grew.  
So he did what he had always done to make it go away.  
“You could never lose me, Mark. I’ll never leave you.”  
Their lips met again and didn’t leave each other before they both laid in bed catching their breath; naked and spent.

Jack went out to the bench again the next day. He didn’t really know why. He still felt mad at Felix, and the swedes words had been haunting him all morning. Besides, after the night with Mark, Jack told himself that he couldn’t see Felix anymore. It was against the agreements. Mark didn’t even know about him.  
Still… There he was. Listening to the busy chatter of people, passing cars, slow waves and crying seagulls. He breathed in the salty, fresh air with his pale hands folded in his lap.  
Usually his mind was buzzing with thoughts when he sat there. But right then, he didn’t think of anything. Everything in his head was what he saw and heard, felt and smelt. White skies and chilly air.  
It was OK like this. Things were OK.  
He sat for about an hour before he left. For the first time, since the first time he did, Felix didn’t show up.

Things seemed normal when Jack got home. Things was where they were supposed to be. The house was clean, his mind was clear. Mark was soon coming home from work. Jack felt like making nachos.  
Also, Felix was in his fucking living room. Staring at Jack like a deer caught in the headlights. The headlights stared back, just as shocked as the deer. For a second that’s all they did. Stare.   
“I was worried,” Felix suddenly blurted out.  
“Oh my God…” Jack groaned.  
“After you stayed with me, I knew he would be mad!”  
“Oh… My God.”  
“I had to come check if you were OK.”  
“Oh my God!” Jack made a shaky movement with both his arms in the air – weirdly communicating his distress. “You can’t be here!” he hissed. “I was OK, you fucking idiot! I’m not OK now!”  
Felix seemed both apologetic and confused, like a lost puppy in a stranger’s living room. He just awkwardly stood there with his shoulder-bag hanging off his shoulder, letting Jack yell himself done.  
“You have to get out!” Jack said urgently, waving towards the door. “Before Mark comes home, good God. If he discovered you here…”  
“Then what?” Felix said, suddenly not looking so apologetic anymore.   
Jack groaned and rolled his eyes. “None of your fucking business. Go be a white knight in shining armor somewhere else, please!” He gestured towards the door again, and after a moment of hesitation, Felix sighed and went to leave.   
“He’s holding you back from life, you know,” Felix said as he stood in the doorway, his back towards Jack. “I know who you used to be. I’ve seen who you could have been. That person could’ve had anyone he wanted.” Felix turned his head slightly towards Jack, but was not really looking at him. The corner of his mouth curled a little. “You could be happy with someone else.”  
After this over-dramatic goodbye, the blonde shut the door behind him. Again, leaving Jack to run his words through his head.  
Jack sighed and combed his fingers through his vibrant green hair. Things were apparently never going to be easy. If Felix had seen Mark last night, maybe he would stop being so judgmental towards him. He was a good guy. Really.  
Jack turned away from the door and stepped towards the kitchen – ready to make some hot dinner. He didn’t take more than one step before the door behind him slammed open.  
Jack swirled around with his teeth clenched in annoyance.  
“Felix-“  
But his mouth went dry, and his eyes big as he saw the storm entering his home. With eyes of cold fire and a body as tense as stone, the love of his life almost brought him to his knees in fear.  
“Felix?” Mark growled. “Is that the piece of shit that just left our house?”


	11. Turned into someone else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'll never be who you once were.
> 
> Someone else - Miley Cyrus, male version

Jack Put his hand up in front of him, palm out. Like he always did. Like this useless shield would help him. He wanted to talk. He wanted to explain, but what was there to explain? He had gone behind Marks back again. He had slept at someone’s else’s house without telling him. Met someone for several days without saying.  
Mark had caught him red handed.  
“I’m s-s-s-“ Jack swallowed tickly, cursing his stuttering. Tears of fear were pricking at his eyes.  
“I knew it,” Mark hissed. He took a step towards Jack, and Jack took a step back. Marks teeth were grinding against each other in a crazy grin, and his breath seemed barely under control. “I knew it!” Mark shouted, and Jack winced. Suddenly Mark shot forward, taking a hold of Jacks throat and shoved him into the wall next to the hall leading to their bedroom. Jacks head slammed against the soft, blue wallpaper, but his gasp was caught in his chest by the grip around his throat. He was surprised by how little he could go without proper air intake before it started to hurt.  
“To think I was afraid I was too hard on you,” Mark hissed, his face inches from Jacks face. “To think I regretted hurting you.” He pulled Jack away from the wall, and slammed his head into it again. The sound of his own skull hitting it was almost as bad as the pain. “But you never regretted hurting me, did you?”  
Jack wanted to answer – to tell Mark just how much he regretted it every day, but nothing but a croak slipped past his lips as he struggled to get the words out.  
Everything was so crazy. His screaming lungs, his aching head and Marks red and fuming face in front of his. The world was going red and mute.  
“I loved you!” Mark pulled him away from the wall, and slammed him into it again. “I gave you everything!” Pulled away from the wall, slammed into it. “You ruined everything!” Away from the wall, into it. “You ruined everything we could have had!”  
When he was slammed into the wall the last time, Jacks legs gave out. Mark let go of him, and Jack slumped to the floor like a heavy sack. It hurt when he hit the floor, but he was too relieved by his free airways to care. He gasped for air, hard and irregular. His head was throbbing, and his throat was on fire. He softly rubbed it with a shaky hand as he lay on his side on the floor.  
Yet he could not speak. He could not find words. Nothing would help. Mark wouldn’t care in the state he was in. He just laid there in hope that it was over.  
For a moment it seemed so. Mark took some steps back. He was breathing heavily, and his fists were shaking. Jack had never seen him so angry.  
Just when Jack thought Mark may be calming down, he felt arms around him. Mark was picking him up with one arm under Jacks thighs and a hand clutching the fabric of his hoodies shoulder. Then he threw Jack away from him with a strength that Jack never thought he had.  
For a split second, the world stopped. It was enough for Jack to figure out what was going to happen. And that it was going to fucking hurt. But it gave him no time to brace himself.  
And then he crashed into their glass coffee table. The sound of breaking glass would haunt him forever. Every time he heard breaking glass in the future, his mind would go back to that moment when Mark broke their table with Jacks bruised body.  
This time he couldn’t even attempt to breathe in air. The ability had been slammed right out if him. He could just lay there, awkwardly, on the table legs and the bed of glass – writhing in agony. Pieces of glass were digging into him, like needles everywhere.  
He groaned, heavily, but could still not breathe properly. It was starting to scare him, and tears of fear and frustration and stress and pain were running down his cheeks.  
How did it come to this?  
When Jack agreed to all those things, he expected things to get better. He thought they would heal and get through it together. Now, they were even more broken than they first were.  
Jack gritted his teeth and lifted his chin to look at the one he thought he would spend his life with. Mark was breathing hard, scratching his head, seemingly trying to get his shit together. As Jack saw the sight of him, he understood that his tears were for another reason. Anger.  
Though his legs begged him not to, Jack got unto his feet. Though they screamed at him not to, he forced them to run. Straight into Mark, who wasn’t expecting it at all. The bigger male didn’t fall over, but stumbled backwards with a dumbfounded look on his face. And then, without hesitation, Jack punched him in the face.  
And fuck, did it feel right. It hurt his knuckles like a bitch, but it felt so damn good.  
“I loved YOU, you fuck!” Jack bellowed, as Mark held a hand to his nose, his eyes wide open in shock.  
“I gave YOU everything, you fucking prick!” Before Mark could pick himself back together again, Jack swung his fist again. He felt sick to his stomach at the sound that followed, but didn’t loose the feeling of righteousness. “And dammit if you didn’t fuck this up as much as I did!”  
This time, Mark didn’t waste a second, but ran forward, shoving Jack into the wall again. Jack spat Mark in the face, and grinned.  
“Is this what you wanted, Mark?” He hissed through a tick sob. “Does this feel like forgiveness?”  
Mark growled and slammed Jack against the wall again. Jack’s body was begging him to surrender, but Jacks mind was drunk on adrenaline and anger. Jack used his strength – the strength he had long forgotten – to push Mark away. He inhaled through clenched teeth, and the sadness and anger in him was so strong he didn’t even know what to do with himself.  
“Do you love me, mark?” He ended up asking.  
Mark sneered. Then he clenched his teeth. Then he looked away.  
“Of course I love you.”  
“What do you love about me?”’  
Mark frowned. “I… I just love you.”  
Jack shook his head with a bitter smile. “Do you love me for my looks?” he asked, and Mark quickly shook his head with uncertain glance at Jack. It was odd, how the tables had turned as soon as Jack stood up for himself. He had been too guilty to ever try before. “No, it was never just that,” Jack mused. “You always said you loved me for my smile.” As if to prove his point, Jack grinned. But he knew that the smile he wore now, was nothing but a unsettling ghost of the ones he used to give. “You loved me for my energy,” he said breathlessly, standing on legs that were about to give out from hurt and exhaustion. “My naivety,” he said, his eyes looking a hundred years old. “My happiness,” he said as the ghost of a smile fell from his lips.  
Mark was just standing there with his fists clenched at his sides. He was trying to seem angry and strong, but Jack knew he was breaking apart. He could see the wetness in Marks eyes.  
‘You looked the same.’ Felix’s words rang through Jacks head. ‘Same green hair, same face and the same accent. But you’ve turned into someone else.’ And Jack let go of the denial. He let go of the hope that one day, it would all be like it used to be. Because Jack was not the same. And he never would be.  
“You don’t love me,” he said.  
It had been two years since he last saw Mark cry, and seeing it now broke his heart in all the ways he knew it would.  
“I did though,” Mark said through his tears; his voice tired and strained. “I really, really did.”  
“I know,” Jack answered softly. “I did too.”  
A moment of silence followed, as they both looked around at the mess they’d made, and the realization of what had to follow, sank inn. Mark walked to the couch, and carefully sat down on it’s armrest. His eyes seemed dead. But at least they weren’t burning with rage. Maybe, after this, they would never burn like that again. Someday, somehow, they would go back to being the loving puppy-dog-eyes Jack fell in love with. Just not with him around.  
Finally, to end it all, Jack said what he had promised time and time again that he would never say.  
“I’m leaving you.”  
He met no resistance. Just a wordless nod. There really was no words to say, and no time to pack his things. He was afraid that if he stayed for even a second more, he would stay forever.  
Going out the door felt like jumping off a cliff. It felt like ending a part of his life for good. It felt final.  
The sun had finally come out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might seem like the end, but more plot is coming. Two - three chapters left.


	12. Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit...

Jack’s mind felt oddly blank as he walked down the sidewalk, dragging his feet along the pavement. It had felt like that since yesterday, when he left Mark behind. He had cried, but the tears felt weird without the familiar feeling of sadness. They just randomly started falling. It wasn’t the kind of sad he’s ever felt before. It just felt hollow and eternal. That had to be the worst. The lingering feeling that this weird emptiness would never go away.  
He just kept thinking to himself;… How strange. How very, very strange. That the man he met so long ago… Would not be his husband. Never. Ever.  
How odd, that Mark would not lay beside him in bed anymore.  
He would not eat dinner with him anymore.  
Watch movies with him anymore.  
Jack would never kiss Mark again.  
How strange, that it was now over. Everything they’d built together. Every promise they’d made. So much time and effort, that just ended in pain and suffering.  
Was this the feeling of despair? Utter and hopeless despair?  
Jack was on his way back to Marks place. Not theirs, just Mark’s. He had to collect what little stuff he had. His drawing stuff, most importantly. And his computer. He had stayed the night at the hospital, after checking out his injuries. He had a lot of tiny cuts everywhere, especially the front of his hips, his palms and chest. Some cuts were deeper, but no one so deep they needed stiches. His head had been the worst. He’d had a concussion, and had an ugly lump on the back of his head. One night in the hospital, and the doctor said he would be alright. To call if it got worse.  
He probably had to stay the night in a hotel. He didn’t really know what to do after that. Maybe book a flight home to Ireland, and stay with his mom.  
It felt childish, but he felt fuzzy at the thought of his mom pandering him and making him tea and dinner while Jack mended his broken heart. He’d always liked being pandered with.  
Mark had been good at pandering him.  
Soon Jack would be there. Mark would be at work now, and Jack would use his key to slip in, pack everything up as fast as he could, and slip out again. It hurt, but he wasn’t about to change his mind about any of this.  
Jack came to a crossroad in the neighborhood, knowing that when he went to the left, he would see Marks small house in the distance, farther down the street. What he was not prepared to see though, as he turned left, was a police car. And three police men. And Mark with his head bowed down and his wrists chained.  
Jack stopped in his tracks, and as he hurriedly hid behind the fence of the closest house, Mark was led into the police car. Jack watched, mouth open in shock, as the car drove away.  
As a raging storm of battling emotions – anger, shock, guilt, - raised inside of him, Jack decided he missed the feeling of hollow emptiness.  
"Shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's short. But the next chapter will be a special chapter, and I feel like this part of the story has to stand by itself, as an own chapter, or else it would kind of mess up the next one. You know what I mean?  
> Plus, cliff hanger.


	13. I don't think love is worth it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does love bring more suffering than happiness?  
> Should it?

FELIX’S STORY

Felix never really fully understood his need to move. It was not for work, and neither was it for love. Maybe it was the cliché idea of running away from his life, but his life had been good, really. Maybe, except for a few things. And that one major thing.  
He didn’t leave a lot of people behind. He had already left his family long ago, back in Sweden. Now, there were just a couple of not that close friends.  
Felix had a hard time really getting close to people. It wasn’t social anxiety or distrust in people; he just didn’t naturally open up to others. He was fine with that.  
Cry had been his only best friend. They met online when they were both just stupid kids being introduced to online gaming for the first time. Even back then, Felix was far from an open book. He found it much easier getting to know a person this way; not seeing their face, not looking into their eyes. It was just Cry’s smooth voice, and his own broken English.  
Cry was there when Felix had his first girlfriend and his first break up.   
He was there when Felix admitted to wanting to date other guys.  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah.”  
“So?”  
“Shut the fuck up. I know you would be OK with it, but… It’s still weird saying it out loud.”  
Felix congratulated Cry when the American finally worked up the courage to move to England to be with his girlfriend. Felix was there when she cheated on and left him.  
“Honestly… I don’t think love is worth it.”  
“Cry…”  
“Marriage is a religious thing, you know. Biologically, maybe we were meant to just fuck around with who we wanted and never get attached.”  
“If that was our purpose, why do we get attached so easily?”  
Cry may have sworn to never get so attached to another person again, but he admitted being attached to the country he had moved to. But he needed a room mate, and he didn’t know anyone he wanted to share an apartment with.  
“I’ll move in with you!”  
“… What?”  
Maybe Felix had fallen in love with him. Maybe he had fallen for the calming voice, thrilling laughter and funny outlook on life. It didn’t matter.   
Cry wished he would stop getting attached, while Felix had a hard time getting attached to anything. Leaving Sweden and everything he knew behind was easy.  
Meeting Cry at the airport – that was the first time he saw the Americans face. He may have fallen deeper in love. Still, it did not matter. Love or not, it felt like destiny to be his friend.  
Life was good after that. They had jobs, friends and hobbies, but it felt like they only needed each other. They just worked good together with their usually calm personalities with big outbursts of feelings when something really great, or really bad happened. They didn’t necessarily talk that much. They just enjoyed the others company.  
Sometimes, when Felix was drunk or Cry was excited, Felix though about kissing him. He thought about making their friendship into something very different.  
He never did. And he was fine with that.  
Cry didn’t love him that way. And Felix was fine with that.  
He was fine when Cry started meeting someone else. He was even open to listening to Cry talk about them, but Cry never did. Felix wasn’t really sure what kind of relationship it was. He just knew that it was complicated, they were having sex and this person was in a relationship with someone else. Felix didn’t like it, but Cry was free to make his own mistakes.  
Felix had met Cry’s lover. His name was Jack, and even though Felix was on the fence about his face, the guy had a rocking body. It reminded him of Cry’s. Felix may have pictured them fucking, as he lay alone in his bed at night.  
When Cry and Jack stopped meeting, Cry never told him why. Felix didn’t ask. They never asked each other about stuff like that. Normally the other would talk about it eventually. It just never happened this time. Actually, Cry didn’t talk much at all anymore. He seemed different. He reminded Felix of a flower - slowly closing up and shutting away.  
Felix realized that Cry had to be depressed, and though Felix stayed with him and did his best to lift his spirits, he never felt like he could make it better. He felt hopeless, standing on the sidelines watching it all go downhill without the knowledge to stop it.   
He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to bring it up. He didn’t even know the problem.  
He just watched as the life drained from his best friends eyes. He watched him get paranoid. About what, Felix had no idea. He just knew that Cry would get angry if he didn’t lock the door every time he went in or out of the house. Cry even started locking the door to his own room.  
In the end, Felix was sharing an apartment with a stranger.  
In the end… It all just ended as badly as it possibly could have ended.  
So maybe that’s why he ended up moving away from there. Because the only thing he ever let himself get attached to, wasn’t there anymore.  
Meeting Jack again, the green-haired with the sweet hips, was just a funny coincidence. Funny, funny, funny. Of course Felix had to greet him. He wasn’t surprised to learn that Jack had changed as much as Cry had. He too was a flower that had crumpled in on itself.   
But Felix kept on meeting him, in spite of Jacks not so friendly behavior. He had his reasons.  
Sometimes he would take the binoculars in his kitchen window, sneak into Jacks neighbor’s garden, and watch him and Mark through the windows. He really did have his reasons.  
He wanted to see how Mark was. He wanted to see if the man could turn into a beast when angry, like he had heard he could.  
He watched as they cuddled in bed, while Jack was sick. He watched as Mark yelled at him, and slammed Jacks head into the wall. He watched them fight. He watched Mark whip Jack.  
It had made him furious. And anyone would think of him as a horrible person for not stepping in, and stopping it. But ever since he first saw Jack though the library window, a plan had begun to form in his mind. He became obsessed with this plan. Sometimes when people make plans, they push their humanity aside to follow it.  
It would help Jack in the end. And Felix really wanted to help him. Jack was not who he used to be, but he was still sweet with his beautiful smile and twinkling blue eyes. He was the kind of person anyone would grow attached to. In mark’s case, a bit too attached.  
Felix would not step in and stop it, but he advised Jack to get out of it. The Irishman deserved better.  
Felix hated thinking about Cry. He hated how it ended. Their supposed ‘love story’ was a beautiful joke from the start, but ended in bitter tragedy.  
But the day after Jack had woken up in Felix’s apartment, Felix thought about Cry. He though of him as he snuck into Jack and Mark’s place while Mark was at work and Jack out on the bench. He thought of how he had found him one after noon, on the floor in their apartment, propped up awkwardly against the wall. Blood streaming from his head. Eyes glossed over. Mouth hanging open. Skin colorless. The gun, slipping from his dead hand.  
They said it was suicide. He was obviously depressed, after all. Felix didn’t want to believe them, but part of him did. The part of him that didn’t, checked Cry’s phone.  
Felix though of what he saw on that phone as he found Jack and Mark’s bedroom. He thought of all the messages Cry had gotten the last months before his death, as he started searching the room. He though he would have to turn the whole place up side down, and even then; there was not much hope of finding anything. He was grasping at straws, really. It had been over a year after all. It had been over a year since Felix looked at those messages, seething with anger.  
No wonder Cry had been paranoid. Mark had been threatening him every day for months. Telling Cry how Cry fucked up Mark and Jack’s life. Telling Cry how Jack was now paying for it. Telling Cry he might as well kill himself now, because if he didn’t, Mark would some day come for him himself.   
Now, Felix was grabbing a thin, brown book up from the drawer of Marks bedside table. So carelessly hidden. At the same time, he heard the door to the house open, and he put the book in his shoulder bag and hurried out into the living room. Jack was standing in the entrance, looking at Felix as if he was seeing a ghost.  
“I was worried,” Felix suddenly blurted out. It was a lie, still it was not.  
“Oh my God…” Jack groaned.  
“After you stayed with me, I knew he would be mad!”  
“Oh… My God.”  
“I had to come check if you were OK.”  
“Oh my God!” Jack made a shaky movement with both his arms in the air – weirdly communicating his distress. “You can’t be here!” he hissed. “I was OK, you fucking idiot! I’m not OK now!”  
Felix just stood there, unhappy that Jack had caught him, but happy that the Irishman didn’t know anything about the book that Felix had put in his shoulder bag.  
“You have to get out!” Jack said urgently, waving towards the door. “Before Mark comes home, good God. If he discovered you here…”  
“Then what?” Felix said. He guessed he might have started to care about Jack along the way. And he was the only one who knew what Mark really was capable of.   
Jack groaned and rolled his eyes. “None of your fucking business. Go be a white knight in shining armor somewhere else, please!” He gestured towards the door again, and after a moment of hesitation, Felix sighed and went to leave. He had found what he had come for.  
“He’s holding you back from life, you know,” Felix said as he stood in the doorway, his back towards Jack. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to say it. It wouldn’t make a difference now. “I know who you used to be. I’ve seen who you could have been. That person could’ve had anyone he wanted.” Felix turned his head slightly towards Jack, but was not really looking at him. The corner of his mouth curled a little. “You could be happy with someone else.”  
Maybe with himself. In another time. Another life.  
He wasn’t even sure Jack would forgive him after this.  
As Felix got home to his empty, lonely apartment, he zipped open his shoulder bag with shaky hands, and opened the thin, brown book.  
It was without doubt - as he discovered that the words in it were handwritten - a journal. Marks journal.  
It confirmed the accusations Felix’s had for a year.  
He never showed the messages on Cry’s phone to the police, because Felix didn’t want to risk Mark being taken in for threats.  
He wanted him in for murder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we've left the realism. It's scary for me, but this has been my plan all along.
> 
> Now, the next chapter will be the last chapter. Then it's the end.  
> Two chapters will come out at once, but the one after the end will just be kind of an authors note about ideas for my next fic. I'd love for you to share your opinions on them when it comes.


	14. Maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe, it's not all black and white.

MARK’S JOURNUAL (the important parts)

I’ve read a lot of places online that when you’re dealing with a lot of emotions, it’s good to get it out on paper. I guess I could write this all in a word document, but I feel that handwriting occupies the mind more. It helps the restlessness.  
I’ve always had a bit of an anger issue. Nothing unusual. It’s not like I’m prone to getting into fights. I just lose control a little faster than most people, and tend to lash out at others. It’s never really been too much of a problem.  
But since the thing with Jack, it has been. Every time I think of it – and I can’t help but think of it every day – I feel furious. I feel betrayed. For some reason I even feel dirty. This relationship seems dirty. Jack seems dirty.  
Every time I think of it, I want to make him pay for it. This is unbearable, because I love him. I want to trust him again and make him feel safe and loved and cared for. I want him to love me again, like he used to. I know he can’t possibly love me the way I am now. I try to push the anger away and come to terms with it all. After all, I did say I forgave him. And if I really forgave him, I can’t keep punishing him for what he did.  
I’m so scared he’s going to leave me, and this makes me distrust him, and when I distrust him I lash out at him, and every time I lash out at him I get more convinced that he’s going to leave me.  
It’s an evil circle that I can’t seem to get out of.  
Sometimes when I’ve lost control, I’ve hit him. Shoved him. Choked him. I do it before I can even get a hold of myself, and when I come to my senses, I’m too ashamed to even apologize. I can just hide away like a coward, looking at pictures of him at my phone.  
When I look at those pictures, I don’t feel as angry as when I see the real him. In those pictures, taken before… that… He’s happy. We were happy and just in love.  
I would give anything to get back to that. But I’m not strong enough.  
-  
I hate Cry. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.  
He’s like a fucking worm, a filthy whore, but still – STILL – better than me somehow. Good enough for Jack apparently. Good enough for FUCKING Jack.  
I text Cry a lot. I can’t help it. It’s like I just need him to know that he’s a piece of shit. I don’t even feel guilty about it. A little pathetic maybe, but not guilty. It’s nothing compared to what he did to me.  
Sometimes, I swear, I could kill him.  
-  
I’m conflicted about the rules I have set for Jack. It’s been a lot of changes for him since he used to be so outgoing and social. He seems a little different, but not too unhappy.  
On the other side, I’m glad to have him for myself. He’s always there when I come home, and I’m the one he spends all his time with. For the first time, I really feel like number one in his life. He used to be for everyone – everyone got a piece. He said I was special, but it wasn’t always easy to believe. Now, I am special. I am his life.  
-  
I’m not sure what happened last night. I saw on Jacks phone, as he hesitantly showed it to me, that he’d met an old friend for coffee while I was at work.  
That now familiar wave of emotions came crashing over me. Some part of me doubted that he had cheated on me – a small, gutless part of me – while the rest of me didn’t even give a fuck whether he cheated or not. All I could think of was that he broke one of the agreements, and that meant he didn’t care. He didn’t care if I got angry or hurt, or if he blew it all. There was also a part of me picturing this ‘old friend’ fucking Jack against the wall in one of the bathroom stalls in the café.  
I’ve lashed out at Jack in so many ways before – violent ways. But I’ve never done what I did last night.  
I fucked him.  
Of course, I’ve done that before, but not when I’ve been angry. Not so suddenly and rough. He didn’t try to shove me away, or protest in any way, but I wonder if I would have stopped if he did. The jealousy in me just wanted to claim him and show him who he belonged to.  
He came, I made sure of that, but it still felt wrong when it was over. Even as he curled up into my side like he was hiding from something in my arms.  
I felt like I’d hurt him, and still I was the only place where he could draw comfort from.  
-  
God, how I love Jack. I’ve always loved him, I’m always gonna love him.  
I hurt him, but I can’t help it. I’ve cried in the shower so many times. Just bawled my eyes out in guilt.  
I love him so much, but he’s such a fucking slut.  
-  
I killed Cry. I killed him. I shot him. I had to. I couldn’t stop myself. He ruined everything. Everything is his fault. Now, he’s dead. He is dead, he is dead, he is dead, he is dead. And I don’t feel any better. The anger hasn’t gotten any less. The guilt is just getting bigger. I felt so worthless, he made me feel so worthless, but what do I feel now? I can’t believe it, it can’t be true. What have I done? Who even am I anymore? What has happened to me?  
Oh God, forgive me. I’ll pretend like it never happened, and God – “God” – will have to forgive me.  
Please, please, it can’t be true.

PRESENT 

Now, Jack was in Felix’s apartment, sitting on his couch with a far-away look in his eyes. He looked like a statue with the straight back and hands prettily placed upon each knee. It was a big change from when he first barged into the apartment, shouting profanities and hammering at Felix’s chest with his fists. It had taken some time to convince him that Felix didn’t turn Mark in for his abuse against Jack, and now Felix wondered if it had been better when Jack was angry.  
“It’s not true,” Jack whispered for the hundredth time. Felix didn’t answer, because he already had, and he could see that it was starting to dawn on Jack anyway. Felix couldn’t show him the journal, as the police had it as evidence, but Jack had experienced Marks change over the last two years.  
“I’m sorry, Jack.”  
“Fuck you,” Jack snapped. “You know, thing were OK before you came along-“ then he stopped himself, shook his head and buried his face in his hands. “No, no…” He mumbled into them. He sniffed, loudly, and uncovered his eyes. “Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he wrote it as some kind of fantasy. Like a crazy, crazy-“ he interrupted himself again with a sob, and hid his eyes again. Felix sighed, and slowly went to sit next to the Irishman, laying an arm around him. Jack tiredly leaned into him, and Felix saw that his eyes and cheeks were wet with tears.  
That were good. It was better with grief than shock.  
“It’s my fault,” Jack said, his raspy voice making him sound like a 40-year-old heroin addict. “I made him like this.”  
“You can’t make a person into this, Jack. This has always been in him. It’s not like every one who get’s cheated on, ends up killing someone.”  
“You say that, but you never knew him like he used to be. Not like I did. I changed him. Nothing you can say will change my knowledge of that.”  
Felix sighed, because he knew Jack was right. Felix wasn’t a psychologist. He hadn’t even been able to save Cry.  
“No, I guess I can’t. But you should get some professional help.”  
Jack nodded, and laid his head on Felix shoulder. Felix laid his head on top of Jack’s.  
“I will,” Jack said softly. “I will move back to Ireland, with my mom. I will get a psychologist. I’m gonna watch a lot of Disney movies, and eat a lot of ice cream. But I’m also gonna exercise and draw. And I’m gonna cry. A lot. So much that it hurts.”  
Felix smiled and closed his eyes, listening to Jacks breathing interrupted by a sniff here and there.  
“You’re a smart guy, Jack,” Felix said. “I wish you all the happiness in the world. If you ever wish to see me again, you know the place to be.”  
“Thank you, Felix.”

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

For the first time in his life, Felix grew attached to a place. Despite the busy traffic right outside his window, and the drunk people shouting from the streets in the weekends, he loved living in the city. He got a job at the library that he was content with. He took a walk by the ocean almost every day, and ate lunch by the docks. After a while, he got bored of taking his walks on his own, and bought himself a black pug. That was another thing he grew attached to.  
He made some good friends. Marzia at the library, Ken in the coffee shop and Brad – his neighbor that had walked into Felix’s apartment drunk one Friday, mistaking Felix’s apartment for his own.  
Felix loved his small, shitty apartment. He loved his idiot dog. He loved his weird friends. He loved his work, and all his comforting routines. Eggs every morning, and tea every night before bed.  
He was finally content. For the first time since Cry and Jack’s relationship started, he was happy. At peace.  
One afternoon, right after dinner in front of his TV, Felix walked to his kitchen window, and looked at the bench in the distance. He didn’t except to see anything more than the bench, maybe occupied by some strangers enjoying the early summer sun, and the sea in the background. But he gave it a look sometimes, and thought back to everything that happened almost a year ago. He thought of Jack, and hoped he was doing OK.  
This day though, Felix squinted to get a better look. Someone was there – leaning against the back of the bench, facing Felix’s apartment. Like they knew he was looking. And the thing was; something green was on top of their head.  
Holding his breath, Felix grabbed the binoculars in the windowsill, and held them in front of his eyes.  
There, with a big grin – that grew even bigger as Felix watched – stood Jack with his own pair of binoculars in front of his face. As Felix watched, Jack grabbed a paper sheet from the seat of the bench and held it up. He had written something on it.  
‘WHO’S STALKING WHO NOW?’  
Felix grinned back, and as Jack motioned for him to come down, Felix put down the binoculars and hurried away to get his shoes on.  
They may have fallen in love over the next weeks. They may have moved in together. They may even have lived happily ever after.  
But usually, It’s not that simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end.
> 
> You'll never have your happy ever after. You'll have to work for happiness, everyday.


	15. What do you wanna read next?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Authors note

There you have it. It’s not a completely happy ending, but not an ending were everyone dies. It’s an open ending, my favorite. It’s like real life.  
I’m very happy about finishing a fic, and I hope you’ve all gotten some enjoyment from it.  
I want to give you all a last thank you for reading, bookmarking, leaving kudos and most of all; commenting. Without all your kind words and thoughts, I don’t think I would have had the motivation to finish. You’re all angels for taking your time to read something I created!  
A special thanks to Laufeyplier99, Dawnieangel76 and ScribbleSpirit who’s been in the comments from the very first chapter, and to aszialove, Screaming_ugly, Septi_Spidey_Plier_Pool, ThisIsRed and Jelixpo for being so active in the comments, and sharing their thoughts with me. I appreciate you all! 

Now; I have some ideas for several stories I want to write, but I can only focus on one at the time. So I’d like to tell you about my ideas, and hear your thoughts on them. You can even come with your own ideas if you’d like.  
Repeating things you’re gonna see in my stories - because that’s what interests me, and keeping myself interested in my own stories is important to keep me writing – are these:  
1\. Jack being the bottom (mostly)  
2\. Mark and Felix (or more) fighting over Jack. I love jealousy.  
3\. Angst and dark themes  
4\. Fluff? What fluff? Ok, a little fluff, but not too much.

I’ve got a plot and storyline pretty much planned out for all these ideas, but title, summary and warnings may change.

IT’S NOT THAT EASY  
Sequel to ‘It’s not that simple’.  
Warnings: Non-con, violence  
Relationships: Septiplier, Jelix, Jack/OC

Summary: Jack and Felix thought they had gotten their happy ending, but their wedding is put on hold as Jack is arrested for murder. In prison, he meets someone he never thought he’d see again.

This is gonna be way darker than ‘It’s not that simple’.

TEACHER, TELL ME, WHAT’S MY LESSON?  
Warnings: Drugs, underage  
Relationships: Septiplier, Jelix(a good couple of chapters into the fic, but much more shown than in ‘It’s not that simple’)

Summary: Jack is not doing too good in Mark’s classes, and desperate for high scores at the end of the year, he takes his teachers offer to trade his body for good grades.

This is the most sexual of the plots. In ‘It’s not that simple’ I never go into detailed sex scenes, but there’s probably gonna be more smut in this one. Still not as detailed as some others write it though, as it does not help the plot move along. It’s not a “teacher and student falls in love and meets in secret” kind of story, but more of a “Jack is an innocent virgin, and Mark shows him all of the guilty pleasures in the world”. It’s far from just about sex though, there is other guilty pleasures out there.

WHEN HE’S (NOT) LOOKING  
Warnings: Violence  
Relationships: Septiplier, Jelix, Jack/OC

Summary: In a world where a life as a slave is favored over a life on the street, Mark is bought to work for Felix Kjellberg. After hearing about Jack from the other slaves, Mark finally meets the master’s favorite. And when he falls in love, he learns that there is only one way to be with him.

This is more of a “forbidden love” kind of story. Some extra info: Felix is a rich man with many labor slaves, like Mark, while Jack is his sex-slave, trained for it since he was very young. Jack is not all “innocent and pure” like in ‘Teacher, tell me, what’s my lesson?’ though. But there is a lot in life he hasn’t experienced.

SHARE ME  
Warning: Violence?  
Relationships: Septiplier, Jelix, various others

Summary: Mark thought they were falling in love, but Jack just wanna have fun.

In this fic, Jack is kind of a slut – just looking for fun and simple pleasures. While Mark and Felix are on the side, pining, and trying to win him over by playing his game.  
Only fic where Jack is the closest to being ‘the bad guy’. I think this would interest readers who want Jack to be more in control.  
Not a dark fic.

 

I love reading fics, and often feel there is not enough fics out there that fits my preferences. That’s why I thought it would be an idea to give you a say in what you want to read next. So please, share both thoughts and questions with me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I don't seem arrogant.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, any kind of comment is appreciated :-)


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